


An Entire Year of You

by Notmarysue



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Conspiracy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prophecy, Science, Scientist Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 38,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notmarysue/pseuds/Notmarysue
Summary: Every love story has two perspectives. Cecil has told his in great detail. But when Carlos first arrived in the small town of Night Vale he had no intention of falling in love. In fact, he had no intention of staying at all.In 2012, a stranger visited Carlos' university office offering a fully funded year of research.  It was a gift no scientist could ever refuse. But 12 months is a long time to be in the middle of nowhere, especially when everyone seems to be trying to kill you. Well, everyone except the radio host.





	1. Prologue: A Quiet Desert Community

A hostile desert community, where the sun burns, the moon is terrifying, and mysterious lights pass over head as a scientist stands at the window, watching it all. Welcome to Night Vale.


	2. Chapter 1: New Arrivals

The man driving the car was bitter and grey and Carlos didn't care for him one bit. He kept tell himself this was mean. After all, very few people genuinely like their bosses, it didn't mean their bosses were bad people. The man driving the car was probably a really nice person if he got to know him in a social context. Carlos had no desire to get to know his boss in a social context. He didn't have much of a desire to get to know many people in a social context. That wasn't his job. His job was to do science. That was about all the details he had on the subject of his employment.

Six months previously he had been working as a professor at The University of What It is. The University of What It Is had one simple goal in mind, which was to get back to the basics of what a university should be. The administration body was overwhelmingly sick of supposed educational facilities claiming to be something more than they were. Everywhere they looked they saw pretentious ad campaigns with slogans like 'We're not a university. We're a community' Or 'We're not a university. Who told you that? We don't even know what a university is'. All that pretence seemed like a waste of time. Life was short and often better when people didn't dance around the point. The University of What It Is always got straight to the facts. It claimed to be exactly what it was, what it was was a university. Anyone who said any otherwise was a liar.

Carlos no longer worked for the University. He had been persuaded by an interesting, albeit it slightly threatening, stranger who had somehow found their way into his office, to up sticks and take a short research break completely off the grid to a small desert town. The premise, take a team and a ton of 'completely clean' money to the town of Night Vale USA and simply...research it for 12 months. The reward, a fully funded scientist's paradise. The catch, Night Vale had proven in the past to be rather dangerous, not to mention hostile to strangers. Carlos presumed that's why this stranger, Mr Markson, his employer and current driver, was sending him rather than going himself.

"Can't you just tell me one thing about why you hired me? What do you want me to find out? What's so special about Night Vale? Why me in particular?" Asked Carlos.

"What have I told you about questions, Mr Ciencia?" Mr. Markson hissed. Carlos virtually talked in questions, at least when Mr. Markson was involved. In fact, upon their first meeting Carlos had greeted him with a stringed mix of questions and expletives, though this was mostly because Mr. Markson had broken into his office. 

"Are you at the top of this operation or did someone hire you to hire me?" 

"Mr. Cienca." Mr. Markson growled.

"You don't have to tell me who's at the top. Just whether there is someone else or not."

"Stop it or I swear I will turn this car around." He shouted, whipping his glance to the backseat like a frustrated father. For a moment, he lost concentration on his driving and the car began to swerve. The silence in the car resumed as he took back control. Carlos sighed. It was a good job they hadn't seen another vehicle for several miles. Of course, Mr. Markson wouldn't turn the car around. They'd already come too far, having driven for multiple hours straight. It seemed that when he'd said Night Vale was in the middle of nowhere, he'd really meant it. The town showed up on no map and in no book. Even the internet couldn't turn up a single trace.

It was mid-day when the car finally pulled up on a dirt road just half a mile away from where the mystery town supposedly sat. The sun beat down as Carlos pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. 

"Pack light." Mr. Markson had told him during his briefing. "Makes it easier to run." He scanned his surroundings. There really was nothing around him. No buildings, no cars, barely even any vegetation. The only thing he could even consider to be alive was a single tree. It was old and rugged, and Carlos had an odd feeling that it was watching him. He chuckled softly. 

"Trees." He muttered. "They are us." And then immediately wondered why he had thought such a thing. 

"Just keep walking in a straight line and you should run right into it." Said Mr. Markson, seemingly not hearing, or perhaps simply ignoring, Carlos' previous statement. "Here's the address for your lab where your team will be meeting you and the address for the apartment where you'll be staying. Be back at this spot in exactly one year or I swear I'll leave your sorry ass right here in the dust." He handed Carlos two address slips, which Carlos glanced over quickly before shoving them in his pocket. He didn't argue with the threat of abandonment. He was already counting down the seconds before the year was up and he would never have to talk to or think about Mr. Markson again. 

"Don't you want to have a quick look around?" Asked Carlos. 

"Prrft, forget that." Replied Mr. Markson, already climbing back into his car. "Remember, you've got one year." He put his foot on the accelerator and sped off. With that, Carlos and Mr. Markson would never meet in person again. 

Carlos gazed at the dirt road that layout in front of him. Just a short walk in a vast desert, a short year in a never long enough life. He started his trek towards Night Vale. The most scientifically interesting town in the America, that's what Mr. Markson had called it, and for the first time in his life he would have nothing to distract him from his passion. He was completely isolated.


	3. Chapter 2: Interloper

The walk from Carlos’ newly rented apartment in the middle of town to the science district on the very edge of town was about a mile and half, giving him plenty of time to take in the surroundings after dropping off his bag. The science district had been established during the 1950s and had served as a compromise between two waring generations; the young, who wanted to ‘learn’ and ‘understand things,’ and the old, who wanted to keep all that new fangled knowledge business in the corner where it belonged. Sadly, it had gotten very little use over the years. People had flocked to it in the early days, but only a handful came with real, tangible questions to ask and even fewer knew where to begin looking for answers. Sixty years later, the only people how visited the district were the towns university students and a rare outsider scientist.

If Carlos had been a vain man, he would say the stares he received as he walked down the street were a result of his stunning good looks. If he was a paranoid man, he’d say they were because everyone wanted to kill him, which was probably closer to the truth. But Carlos the neither vain nor paranoid, he was observant. He observed that in a town so small and so isolated a man like him was bound to stand out like a sore thumb.

“Interloper.” A man hissed as he passed. Carlos added hostility to his list of observations. Perhaps the faster he tried to integrate into Night Vale’s society the smoother the year would go, so he stopped by the Ralph’s. Buying a few snacks would probably sweeten the interaction between his new co-workers as well, so really he was killing two birds with one stone.

“Hey you, young man.” An old woman called as he entered the carpark. Carlos turned around, expecting to add times two next to hostility on his mental observation list.

“Yes?” he shouted back.

“You here about the lightbulb?” she asked, holding up a lightbulb in one hand clear for him to see.

“Um…no.”

“Shame, I thought more people would be interested.” She said, putting the lightbulb back in her handbag. “Maybe I’ll get Cecil to mention it again. He seems to have taken quite an interest it you, you know?”

“I’m sorry, who ha-“

“Stop shouting and come over here so I can hear you.” The woman scowled. Carlos glanced at the store, then back at the woman, and shrugged. He wanted to start integrating, now he was integrating. Everything was working out. He hurried over. “I’m talking about Cecil Palmer.” She continued in more calm, hushed tone. “Cecil’s the radio host here. Strange man, interesting tattoos.”

“Right.” Carlos nodded.

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance to meet him. Everyone does in the end. I’m Josie Ortiz by the way. And you are.” She asked, stretching out her arm for handshake.

“Carlos Cienca.” He smiled, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. Maybe the residents of Night Vale were going to be okay after all.

“Fancy name you’ve got there, Mr Cienca.”

“Thank you. It means-“

“Some kind of scientist, are you?” She asked, prodding at his lab coat.

“Absolutely.” He beamed. “Science has been my passion since I was a little boy.”

“Yes, well, everyone had strange passions as a kid. Most of them don’t led to a place like this though.” Carlos face dropped.

“What do you mean a place like this?”

“Oh, nothing dear. Just the ramblings of an old woman. I’m sure you’ll be just fine, providing you stay out of the dog park and try not to antagonise too many people.”

“I’ll try my best.” Carlos gulped.

“I’m sure you will.” Josie nodded. “I’ll let you get on with it then. A suspect a scientist such as you is in quite a hurry. You take care of yourself, Carlos.”

“You too, Mrs Ortiz.” He waved as he headed into the store.

The store itself was perfectly normal in layout. In fact, if he tried not to pay too close attention, Carlos could almost convince himself he was back home. Of course, it was the products that gave it all away. Tinned snake stew, fried fairy, imaginary cornflakes. Carlos wondered which part was imaginary, the corn or the flake. More annoyingly, there were no prices, just phrases ranging from the ordinary such as ‘surprisingly affordable’ to slightly threatening like ‘more than you could ever dream’. Eventually, he picked up a sharing bag of relatively normal looking chewable sweets and a cold drink, both marked with the rather uncharitable phrase ‘cheaper than your mum’, and made his way to the checkout.

The man at the checkout was a disgruntled looking teenager with greasy brown hair which flowed in untamed curls to just passed his chin. He maintained an intimidating amount of eye contact as he scanned the items, which took a painfully long time considering there was only two of them, and stuck out his hand for the money, still not giving any indication of price. Not wanting to short-change him, Carlos handed over a ten dollar note. He expected change but none seemed to be on the way.

“Can I have my receipt plea-“ The cashier started barking like a rabid dog before he could finish his sentence. Carlos jumped back, grabbed his items, and ran out of the store. He sped walked through the carpark. Forget integrating, the sooner he got to his lab the better.

“Are you sure you don’t want the lightbulb?” Josie called.

“No thank you, Mrs Ortiz.” Carlos called back as he disappeared out of sight.

By the time Carlos finally got the lab he was exhausted, and the sweets were sticking together in the bag. He reached for the door, but it was locked, and it suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t been given any keys. He hadn’t been given any keys to his apartment either, but that door opened just fine and that only served to worry him more. He knocked as hard as he could.

“Hey, anyone in there?” He asked.

“Who are you? What do you want?” A woman snapped back.

“My name is Carlos Cienca. Mr Markson sent me?” he wasn’t sure why he phrased it like a question. He knew for sure Mr Markson had sent him. He just wasn’t sure who had sent Mr Markson. He heard the sound of the door unlocking. Before he could fully process what was happening the door swung up and a woman pulled him in by his collar before slamming it shut and locking it again. She practically threw him free of her grasp, causing him to stumble before regaining his balance. There were only three people in the room other than him, two woman and a man. Carlos instantly noticed that the other woman a black eye and a bruise which spread to her forehead. He decided not to bring it up right that second.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you. You were supposed to be here over an hour ago. We thought something had happened.” The woman yelled.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the store. How who are you? How do you already know who I am? And where is everybody?” asked Carlos. He was expecting a team of at least a dozen.

“Mr Markson phoned ahead to say that he dropped you off and to complain about the signal a little bit. I’m Marsha, the other woman is Jess and the guy’s name is Robin.” She answered.

“Hey.” The others both waved in unison.

“We were the only one’s still willing to come out. Everyone else has barricaded themselves in their apartments due to the locals.” Marsha explained.

“They don’t seem that bad.” Said Carlos. “Just a little weary of strangers.”

“Oh really, well apart from being called interloper more times than we can count over the last week the three of us have been barked at, bitten, nearly tied to a stake.”

“I’m sorry, what was that one?”

“You see that bruise Jess has got there.” Marsha asked, pointing at Jess.

“When you say a stake-“

“She had a coffee cup thrown at her. A full coffee, Carlos. Luckily for her it was iced coffee.”

“A coffee cup caused that?” Carlos asked Jess.

“Yeah.” Jess shrugged. “But everyone here uses reusable cups, so it was pretty hard.”

“Hmm environmentally friendly assault.” Carlos thought aloud before realising it was probably the wrong thing to say. “Look, I’m sure there’s an easy way around this. This a close town, everyone knows everyone, and to them we seem like outsiders. Heck, we are outsiders. If we stay boxed up in here until the day we leave they’re never going to stop seeing use that way.”

“So, what do you suggest?” Asked Jess.

“I suggest…” His voice trailed off. What did he suggest? He didn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of any plastic cups to the face, but he was going to have to address the residents of Night Vale directly if they were ever going to trust him. If only there was a way he could see them all face to face at once. That would get the whole thing over and done with quickly. Then it struck him. “I suggest we hold a meeting. We get everyone in city hall, we explain what we’re doing as well as we can, and try to answer all their questions.”

“You want to be on stage, in a small room, surrounded by them?” Asked Marsha.

“Yes.” Carlos nodded.

“Hmph, forget that.” Robin laughed. “They’ll kill us.”

“They won’t kill us.” Carlos sighed.

“Oh yes they will. But listen, if you want to go out there and get murdered that’s your call. I’m going to spend my days in here with the doors locked, drive home at night, and sleep with the windows boarded up. There’s no reason for any of us to interact with these crazy people.”

“And how exactly are you going to buy food?”

“I’ll find a way.” Robin snapped.

“Fine, you don’t have to come. None of you do. I’ll talk to them all on your behalf. I’m used to talking in front of people for a living after all.”

“Well okay, if that’s what you really want.” Huffed Marsha.

“It is.” Carlos replied firmly. “Just you watch guys, everything will be just fine.”


	4. Chapter 3: The Town Meeting

Setting up a town meeting was surprisingly easy. Carlos expected to have to wait at least a couple weeks after requesting a room, but the city council, eager to find out what an interloper was doing mooching around their town, insisted he give his talk that day. They granted him an hour to run back to his apartment, get a quick shower, and run back. At ten to four he signed into the quest book and tried to make small talk with the receptionist, Sarah, though she didn’t seem remotely interested. In fact, she only rolled her eyes at him. At 5pm, he went on stage without notes.

Carlos swallowed his nerves as he faced the crowded room. It felt so different from the talks he gave at the university. For one, lecture halls were rarely full, students being the way they were, but it seemed that everyone in the town had dropped their evening plans to attend the meeting. Secondly, at the university he was in a position of authority. Of course, there were always a few people who talked during his lessons, but that was fine. Everyone else was there to learn, so they stayed quiet and asked questions if need be. It was all quite a calm affair. In Night Vale, not only was he a nobody but he was an interloper, and everyone in the room was far from quiet. The crowd was yelling. Some were shouting questions, some were screaming at him to leave, and others were just yelling random words and phrases presumably just to blend in. There were only four people who were silent: two expressionless suited men that were stood by the door, Josie, who was sat on the front row warmly smiling, and a man who was sat right at the back who immediately caught Carlos’ eye.

The man at the back was extremely hard to describe. Carlos could probably spend the whole year trying to find the right words and he still wouldn’t be able to. He wasn’t short by any of stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t overly tall either. He was an average build, not particular fat or particular thin, not overly athletic but not out of shape. He looked young, perhaps a few years older than Carlos, but his eyes seemed as if they held the secrets of someone who’d living for hundreds of years. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t express the anger or fear that everyone else did. On his lap sat a recording device, clear for Carlos to see. The man must have noticed Carlos staring, because a grin flashed momentarily across him face, before he quickly concealed it again and nodded for him to speak. Carlos stepped towards the mic. It was now or never, ready or not.

“Hello everyone.” He began. The room get yelling, burying his voice beneath the noise. “Um, excuse me everyone, hi, could…could I please have your attention?”

He waved his arms frantically, but it was no good. The room couldn’t be tamed. The man at the back loudly cleared his throat. With that, the room finally fell silence.

“Thank you.” Carlos nodded gratefully. “My name is Carlos Cienca, I’m a scientist from out of town.”

“Get out of here, interloper.” An old man shouted. All heads turned towards him with annoyed glares. “Oh, are we not doing that? Okay. Sorry Carlos, keep going.”

“Okay. I’m here because Night Vale is by far the most scientifically interesting town in the US, maybe even the whole world. I’m trying to figure out everything that’s going on this place and how it all works, along with a few other scientists who I’ll be working with. I’m hoping you’ll let us all do that in peace. In fact, I hope I’ll be able to get to know some of you.” He grinned. “I’m happy to take any questions. Please, fire away.” The room erupted again. “One at a time please.”

The shouting stopped and hands shot up. Virtually everyone in the room had something to ask. There was no way Carlos was going to get through them all in his allotted hour.

“Um, okay. You.” He said, pointing a woman in the middle of the second row.

“Are you a Russian spy?” She asked.

“Um…no?”

“Shame. That would have been interesting.” She sighed.

“Right. Next?”

“Can I become a scientist?” asked an old man who looked like he had come straight from a farm.

“Of course.” Carlos replied eagerly. “I mean it’ll take a lot of hard work and specialised education but I’m happy to help tutor you and give you any references you need and-“

“I’m not sure about the whole clearing thing though. Is that mandatory?”

“I’m sorry I don’t understand. Clearing?”

“Yeah, that thing with all the personal questions.”

“No that’s not…are you thinking of scientologists?” Asked Carlos.

“Is there a difference?” The man shrugged.

“Quite a big difference, yes.”

“Oh…I’m not really interested in becoming a scientist then.” The man waved dismissively.

“That’s fine. What about you?” Carlos pointed at the man with glasses who was sat in front of the man with the beautiful eyes, next a young girl in a wheel and a blonde woman, presumably his wife and daughter.

“Hey, my name’s Steve. Real nice to meet you.” Steve greeted.  
“Nice to meet you, Steve.” Carlos smiled.

“I was just wondering if you were planning to do anything about the helicopters?” The two suited figures fixed their eyes on him, as did the man at the back, and Carlos wondered whether answering at all would somehow jeopardise both of their safety. Still, there was no reward without risk, and he promised to answer questions, so he continued.

“Helicopters?” he asked.

“Steve, I’m not sure that this is a great idea.” The blonde woman hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yeah.” Steve continued unphased. “See we’re all kind of used to the Sherriff’s secret police and the world government flying around. It’s kind of bummer but it’s the only real way of keeping us all safe, you know?”

“Absolutely.” Carlos agreed, though he didn’t know at all.

“But lately there have been helicopters all over the place with complex murals of birds of prey diving. They’re really hard to spot but when you do see them you’ve got to try and run home before the screaming starts. It’s very inconvenient when you’ve got kids. Are you going to do anything to fix that?”

“Well, I’m not really here to fix or change anything about Night Vale. I’m just here to investigate.” Carlos explained.

“Oh…well could you at least investigate the helicopters?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Sure, I can do that.” Carlos smiled. The suited figures scowled, and an overwhelming feeling of dread began to rise from the pit of his stomach. “Um…that concludes this meeting.” He said, though there was still almost forty-five minutes left so his hour. He jammed the microphone back in the holder and rushed off stage as calmly as possible. Muttering filled the room. Some left, but many sat discussing the evening’s proceedings amongst themselves until they were ushered out. Carlos stayed in the back until every last one of them was gone.

“Thanks for having me tonight.” He said to Sarah as he sighed out of the guestbook. 

“Whatever.” Sarah replied as she chewed her bubble gum.

“Hey, Sarah. The man sat at the back of the hall tonight. Is he-“

“There were several men sat at the back of the hall tonight. Care to be more specific?” Sarah interrupted.

“Well…” Carlos racked his brain for the right word. Sure, he would have loved to be more specific, he just didn’t know how to be. “I’ll see you later, Sarah.” He mumbled in defeat.

“Sure, see you later.” She groaned.

Carlos did not see Sarah later, no-one would. Sarah disappeared later that night under mysterious circumstances, as citizens of Night Vale often did.


	5. Chapter 4: Coffee Run (Part 1)

Carlos would have loved to say that the next five days passed uneventfully, but it was quickly becoming clear that uneventful days didn’t exist in Night Vale. Luckily, three days had passed without anything being thrown at him or his team, so that was an improvement. People still called him an interloper, but only a handful in an aggressive way. The rest seemed to use it as greeting or nickname. In fact, he was kind of into it. Carlos the interloper, had a nice ring to it.

There was only one real problem right in that moment and that was Cecil, the radio host. He just wouldn’t stop talking about him, which was kind of sweet in a weird sort of way. So much positive attention in an environment that was hostile at worse and indifferent at best. It was just the way he talked. He kept talking about Carlos’ hair and how he loved him. Carlos was sure that it wasn’t possible for someone to fall in love without so much as conversation. Then again, he’d never really been in love, not properly at least, so maybe he just didn’t know. It was his area of expertise.

“He talks about everyone, sweetie.” Said Josie as they shopped for groceries. Carlos had been too scared to shop alone after the barking incident at the Ralph’s, so after two days of starvation he’d asked Josie if she needed any help with her shopping in the hope he could pick up some stuff for himself while he was at it. She didn’t, but she must have caught on to his plan because she offered to go with him. The two were walking down the aisles with separate carts when he finally mentioned Cecil.

“Like that?” He asked doubtfully.

“No, not like that. Well, there was this one guy but that was a very long time ago. But his radio show is often a weird mix of news and free thought. You know he’s a pretty neat guy. Maybe you should give him a shot.”

“I’m sure he is, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” Carlos replied, shaking his head. Even if Cecil turned out to be amazing it would be nearly impossible to keep a real connection after the year was up. It would be unfair on the poor guy.

“Well I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” She shrugged. “Cecil’s kind of like a puppy; yappy, loyal, and pretty easily distracted. Give it three days and I’ll be talking about dragons or something.”

Three days later and Carlos was still waiting.

“It’s weird. It’s so weird. Like I know he doesn’t seem to think it’s weird, but like…it’s really, really weird.” He ranted to his co-workers.

“Oh, you want to talk about weird? Today we find a house that doesn’t exist.” Said Robin.

“A house that doesn’t exist? What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, it looks like it exists and it’s next to two identical houses so it would make sense for it to exist.” Explained Jess.

“But?”

“It doesn’t exist.”

“Huh…hey, Marsha did you know about this?” asked Carlos.

“Yeah.” Marsha replied as she poured a test tube of blue liquid into a beaker filled with green. This was Marsha’s new pass time. Mr Markson had never given anyone specific directions, so they were all doing their own thing. Marsha’s thing was mixing random chemicals together to see what would happen. Everyone was waiting for this to blow up in her face, quite literally. The beaker began to fix and spill onto the table, but it quickly calmed down. Carlos, Robin, and Jess sighed with relief. They survived another day. “You would have known to if you’d shut up and stopped talking about the radio host.”

“It’s just weird, okay.” He mumbled. “So, what are we going to do about this house?”

“What do you think we should do?” Asked Robin.

“Have you gone in?”

“Doors locked. Pretty sure someone lives there.” Said Marsha.

“Someone lives in house that doesn’t exist?”

“Yeah, so don’t come talked to us about weird.” She groaned.

“Well, have you knocked?”

“No dude, you knock.” Robin scoffed.

“Will you at least come with me?” he asked.

“Why? You scared?”

“No.” Carlos lied. “Are you?”

“…Whatever, dude. Could you go get coffee?” Robin deflected.

“Sure.” Carlos sighed as he picked up Robin’s plastic cup along with his own. “Anyone else want anything?” As soon as he asked two plastic cups hit his face and dropped to the floor. He sighed again and picked them up. Zero, zero days without anything being thrown at him.

Getting coffee in Night Vale was surprisingly easy compared to everything else. There were plenty of coffee shops to choose from, so they were all extremely competitive. Plus, they actually displayed their prices in a currency Carlos understood. He collected the four coffees from the counter and attempted to awkwardly balance them, holding the steady between his arms and his chest and slowly burning himself in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Asked the Barista.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” He winced. He used his shoulder to push the door open and head out onto the street. Why didn’t he just ask Robin if he could borrow his car? He was one who wanted coffee after all. Still, it was too late now. Besides, he had bigger problems, such as the angry group of eight, not quite big enough to be a mob but just large enough to make Carlos to feel unsafe, rapidly heading towards him.   
“Down with the interloper.” The shouted in unison. 

“Oh for goodness sa-“ Carlos didn’t get a chance to finish his thought before they scooped him up into air and started carrying him without stopping.

Carlos didn’t put a fight as they carried him down the street. They’d done the same thing to Jess and Marsha and each time the group had quickly got bored and put them down. He sighed and prayed they wouldn’t take him too far. He wanted to stay close to the coffee shop since he was going to have to buy everything again. The cups were on the ground and the contents were all over his shirt. At least he could get the cups back.

They’d made it about five doors down when Carlos spotted him from across the street, the man with the beautiful eyes. He was sitting on a bench, listening to music, when they locked eyes. He immediately rose to his feet and crossed the street without looking. It was a really good job Night Vale didn’t have heavy traffic. As he got closer, Carlos noticed the man’s intricate purple tattoos that twisted and turned down his arms and around his wrists. God he was beautiful. Carlos mentally maintained that he wasn’t on the dating scene, but he was more than happy to window shop.

Until the man opened his mouth.

“Hey, where are you going with perfect Carlos?” He scowled. “You’re going to scare him off.”

Well, he sure wasn’t wrong, this would certainly scare most people off. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like Carlos could leave if he wanted to.

“Ah, you must be Cecil.” Said Carlos.

“Yeah, how did you know that?” He asked in a much softer tone than he’d used with the group.

“Down with the interloper.” The group shouted.

“I can tell by your voice. You’re the radio host.” Carlos continued as if nothing was happening. Cecil was jogging besides him as they continued their little walk. Maybe being carried down the street was just a normal interaction in Night Vale.

“Oh…you listen to that, huh?” Cecil blushed.

“Of course, it’s a great way of getting the news here.”

“Down with the interloper.” The group repeated.

“Down with me.” Carlos grumbled back. As if it was an order the group let go, causing Carlos to drop fast, and walked away in separate directions as if nothing had ever happened. Carlos hit the ground hard. He screwed up his face and tried to fight back tears as a dull pain spread through his back and shoulders.

“Oh my God, Carlos are you okay?” Cecil exclaimed.

“I’m fine.” He groaned. 

“Here, let me help you up.” Cecil offered his hand and pulled Carlos to his feet. His hands were so soft.

“Thank you.” Carlos replied as he brushed himself down. A nasty cut on his elbow was bleeding through his shirt. Mixed with the coffee, that particular item of clothing was going to be the washing machine for a long time.

“Come on, I’ll get you a napkin and some more coffee. I know this really great place. You and your team are going to love it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can just-“

“Please, I insist. Think of it as a thank you for being a loyal listener.” Cecil smiled.

“A loyal listener of five days?” Carlos chuckled.

“Precisely.” Cecil nodded. Carlos sighed and looked back at the pile of abandoned cups. Cecil certainly seemed a lot more normal in real life than on the radio. They’d both been taken by each other’s looks and Cecil, having the power of the radio on his side, had just got a little carried away. There was no reason the two couldn’t be get along.

“Sure.” Carlos shrugged. “Why not?”

“Awesome.” Cecil grinned as he lightly grabbed Carlos’ hand. “Let’s go.”

“Um, Cecil…the cups.” Carlos protested as he was pulled in the other direction. Cecil kept going, already lost in his own little world. Carlos smirked. He’d get the cups later.


	6. Chapter 5: Coffee Run (Part 2)

The Black Cauldron Coffee Shop had been operating in Night Vale since 1912. It hadn’t so much as opened, instead it had appeared one Saturday afternoon in a magnificent flash of light. A sickly heat had spread onto the street and a man with a tweed jacket and handlebar moustache walked out towards the gathering crowd. In a booming voice he announced:

“We. Are. Open.”

They’d served Night Vale ever since. Cecil and Carlos arrived after a two-minute walk. A white sheet hung from the roof with the words ‘Now with 50% less blood’. Carlos would later learn that this was a downgrade.

“You see, this is why you don’t need your cups.” Said Cecil as he led Carlos towards a table of what looked like skulls next to the till.

“Wow.” Carlos replied as he picked one up and tapped its side. “These are so realistic. What are they made out of?”

“I’m not sure. Bones are mostly calcium I think.” Cecil answered as he inspected one of the items on the table.

“Oh. Right…”

The pair headed towards the counter with their hands full of skulls. Carlos could only hope that whoever they once belonged to was okay with being having their remains used as a coffee cup. Still, there were worse things that could happen to a person’s bones. At least they were still being helpful, using their death to help people stumble through their lives. Carlos could just about see the strange appeal behind that. He patted himself down with a napkin, though it was too late to prevent staining, reordered his drinks, and, after a short friendly argument, allowed Cecil to for half. This time he was sure to ask for a cup holder.

“Do you want to sit in? We can drink ours together if you like.” Said Cecil.

“But then my co-worker’s coffee with get cold.” Carlos pointed out.

“Of course. I’m sorry again about those people’s behaviour.” Cecil continued as they headed away from the queue.

“Don’t worry about. It’s not like you could have done anything about it.” Carlos shrugged.

“Well maybe I can mention it on the radio tomorrow. That might get them to calm down a little.”

“Yeah I’ve actually been meaning to mention that to you.”

“Mention what?” 

“The radio. I’d appreciate it if you stopped…I don’t know how to describe it, radio flirting maybe.”

“Oh.” Cecil blushed. His eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights. It clearly hadn’t been a topic he was expecting to come up. Carlos hadn’t been sure whether he was going to bring it up either, but it just felt like the right moment. “I mean I didn’t really think of it as flirting it’s just…I mean you’re a good-looking guy, great looking, and you know you’re…”

“Cecil.” Carlos smiled.

“You just seem pretty cool and…you know, I get excited about things and-“

“And I really appreciate it. You’re a good-looking guy too. Good looking and very interesting. It’s just that I’m-“

“Straight?” Cecil asked.

“Oh God no.” Carlos replied in a fit of laughter. He cleared his throat and quickly composed himself. “Um, no. No, I’m not.” He repeated in a much more controlled tone.

“But you have a boyfriend.”

“No, I’m single, have been for a while now. It’s just that I really need to focus on my work right now. I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.” He explained.

“Oh…yeah I totally get that.” Cecil nodded.

“So, if you mention me on the radio…”

“I will try to be less ‘radio flirty’.” Cecil agreed. 

“Thank you.” Carlos smiled warmly. “You know, I think we could be great friends.”

“Me too. I’ll walk you back to your lab before your co-workers start worrying about you. We don’t want you getting semi-kidnapped twice in one day.”

“No, we don’t.” Carlos laughed.

During the fifteen-minute walk from the Black Cauldron to his lab Carlos laughed more than he for over two years. The subject of Cecil’s odd behaviour didn’t come up again. Instead, they talked about everything from the weather, which was particularly catchy that day, to the word-based economy of Night Vale. Turned out that the drink and sweets he’d bought were supposed to be two dollars, meaning he was owed eight, but there was no-way he was going to go back alone and ask for his change. Cecil walked him all the way up to the lab. His team stayed silent as they said their goodbyes.

“Well, this is me.” Said Carlos, placing the drinks down.

“Yes it is.” Cecil nodded. For a few seconds, nothing happened. They just looked at each other in silence before Cecil’s brain suddenly caught up. “Oh I should-“

“Yeah.” Carlos nodded.

“Okay. I’ll just…” he said as he backed out of the door. Carlos slowly began to close the door, hoping he could take the hint to go a little faster.

“Bye, Cecil.” He laughed.

“Right. Yes. See you soon. Love you platonically.” He waved as the door clicked shut. Carlos and the team watched the door in silence before Robin finally spoke up.

“Dude…that’s weird.”

“Yeah…” Carlos agreed. “But like…weird weird or kind of cute weird?”

“You know what, Carlos, I’m not going to say. That one is entirely up to you.”


	7. Chapter 6: The Watcher

As promised, Cecil stayed true to his word for the next two weeks. Well, he tried to. There were multiple occasions where he would start talking about Carlos, remember that he wasn’t supposed to, and awkwardly move on as quickly as possible. It wasn’t perfect but Carlos couldn’t fault the man for trying. Besides, new problems were rapidly developing, such as the two men that Carlos and his team had named ‘The Watchers’.

The Watchers had shown up the day after Carlos had moved in and it didn’t take long for him to recognise them as the same men that had glared at him at the town meeting. They sat in their black car outside the lab everyday from the moment Carlos showed up until after he left. Sometimes, he thought he could see them following him around town and to his apartment, but he wasn’t sure. Paranoia had been sitting deep with him since he came to Night Vale and he couldn’t be sure if he was imagining it. He wasn’t even sure that they were there at all until Jess and Robin had also pointed them out. They didn’t seem to be watching anything in particular, they just sat there staring out of the window screen, their eyes covered by black mirrored sunglasses.

“Maybe it’s an intimidation tactic. They just want us to know they’re there.” Said Robin.

“Why would they want to intimidate us?” Asked Carlos as he watched them from the window. This was his own form of intimidation tactic. He wanted to be sure that they were aware that he’d noticed them. Of course, it was probably not making that much of a difference. It wasn’t like they were being subtle; they knew he could see them, and they were perfectly okay with that. Besides, it wasn’t like they were going to be threatened by a skinny scientist.

“Probably just because we’re interlopers.” Jess shrugged.

“I feel like this is some form of discrimination.” Carlos mumbled.

“Yeah, well. What can you do?” Robin shrugged. 

“I’m going to talk to them.” 

“Carlos, no.” He snapped. He tried to grab his arm to prevent him from leaving, but Carlos was already on the march. Carlos had never been a confrontational person and he wasn’t about to become one, but he was a curious person and being watched from nearly three weeks certainly piqued his interest. It almost interested him as much as the whole glow cloud situation a week earlier.

“It’s fine. I’ll be right back. Though if I’m not back in five minutes please come out to check on me.”

“We’ll call your parents.”

“You don’t know my parents.”

“We’ll call Mr Markson.”

“Sure, go ahead.” He called back as he rounded the corner to the stairs. If anything, calling Mr Markson would justify the whole situation as scientific. Carlos would do his daily report on it.

Carlos rushed downstairs and out to the street. The Watchers didn’t react. That was fine, Carlos rushed by nature and they were probably used to seeing him near jog around. He knocked gently on the driver side window. The driver rolled it down without moving his head. 

“Are you Mr Cienca?” He asked.

“Yeah. Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering-“

“Mr Carlos Cienca?”

“Yes?” Carlos replied. He managed to somehow sound unsure of his own name. Was there more than one Mr Cienca in Night Vale? If so, he’d love to meet him. They could swap horror stories.  
“Get in the car.” The man demanded.

“I…I would kind of prefer…not to.” As soon as he said that, the man finally turned his head towards him. Even though he couldn’t see his eyes, Carlos could feel his rage.

“Get in the car before I make you get in the car.” He growled. Carlos gulped and obeyed. “Seat belt.”

“Where are you taking me?” Carlos asked quietly.

“You ask too many questions. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”

“Am I coming back?”

“Yes, Mr Cienca, you’re coming back.” The man sighed, though his tone was so rough and irritated that it failed to be reassuring. Carlos considered jumping out and running for his life, but the moment he finished the thought he heard the locks click. “Now for the last time, seat belt.”

Carlos took a deep breath and put his seat belt on. If he was going to be trapped in a car with a vague but menacing government agency he may as well practice proper road safety. He looked out of the lightly tinted windows as they pulled away. He was going to be a lot longer than five minutes.

The drive seemed to go on forever. Carlos didn’t think anything could be more than half an hour away in such a small town. Yet it was nearly an hour before they finally stopped. Carlos had experienced many long hours in his life, hours that stretched and warped into days and years, but never had there been an hour as endless as the silent journey into the desert. There was only one building in sight, a grey windowless warehouse.

“Am I under arrest?”

“That depends on what you do next.” Said the driver, as he pulled him out of his seat and towards the building. 

“Do I get a phone call?”

“Trust me, kid, I don’t think anyone you know is going to be much good.” This was probably true. His team had no sway on Night Vale’s legal force, providing that was even who these people were. At least one of them was speaking, it was the other one that was making him uncomfortable. He just stayed stony faced and silent. Carlos racked his brain for anything that could help. Josie? He didn’t know her number. Maybe he could ask for the number to the radio station. Cecil could scream at them over the radio until they got uncomfortable and let him go or until somebody took to note and came to his rescue. Regardless, he just really hoped his team followed through when he asked them to come check on him.


	8. Chapter 7: Interrogation

It was another half an hour before Carlos saw the two men again. He sat alone in pitch black darkness on an uncomfortable chair with his hands tied behind his back while his captures (was it still considered being held captive if they were a legal force?) went out for a cigarette break.

“Don’t worry to such about the rope. It’s just a security measure, like when the police handcuff a person to the table.” The driver had explained while the passenger secured him.  
“So, you’re not the police?” Carlos had asked. No phone call then. He didn’t struggle, it would have only made things worse.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, that’s great.” He grumbled before speaking up again “I would prefer to be handcuffed to a table.”

“Well we don’t have a table.” The man snapped. “Now wait here.”

“Will do. I don’t really have a choice.” Carlos replied cheerily. After that, the two men had left, turning the single unshaded bulb that formed the entire room’s light off as they did. Luckily, Carlos was an excellent day dreamer even under terrible circumstances. His daydream started simple. He imagined the last few weeks had all been a dream. Night Vale certainly felt like a dream. As the dragging minutes past his thoughts became more elaborate. He smirked as he thought of himself suddenly developing excellent combat skills and breaking free or Josie, Cecil, and his team showing up a defensive force to be reckoned with. Both seemed unlikely. Carlos had never been in a fight in his life and nobody knew where he was. That thought sickened him. What if they just left him there, tied up in the dark. How long before anybody found him? How long before anyone would even think to look?

They didn’t leave him there. They came back at long last. The sudden burst of light blinded him as it turned on with a nasty pinging sound. Carlos wished he could raise his arm in front of his face to protect himself, but of course he couldn’t.

“Sorry about that, Mr Cienca.” Said the driver.

“It’s fine.” Carlos tried to shrug. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, that glow cloud is still lingering on the edge of town and we had to get those animals out of the way before the street cleaners show up.” The man who had been on the passenger side explained.

“Oh.” Carlos jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice. “You do talk.”

“Yeah. Of course, I talk.” The passenger scowled.

“It’s just that you haven’t said anything so far and I just thought-“

“Well maybe I just don’t want to chat all the time.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Would it matter if he didn’t talk?” Hissed the driver.

“No, of course not.” 

“Because I know some great vague but menacing government agents that don’t speak at all.” 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Carlos nodded rapidly.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get back to the topic at hand.” Said the passenger.

“Good idea. W-what’s the topic at hand?”

“Helicopters.” The passenger announced firmly.

“Helicopters?” Asked Carlos.

“The helicopters you told Mr Carlsberg you would investigate.” Said the driver. 

“Oh helicopters.” Carlos suddenly remembered. “I completely forgot about them. Do you know anything about them? Who do they belong to? Do they belong to you? What do they want? Why is their presence always followed by…” His voice trailed off as he noticed the murderous glares he was receiving. “I mean…”

“Do you plan on investigating the helicopters, Mr Cienca?” Asked the driver.

“…No.”

“That’s the right answer.”

“Am I free to go?” He asked hopefully.

“Not quite.” Said the passenger. Carlos stifled a sigh. Of course he wasn’t free to go. That would have been too easy. “Your presence here is…troubling. Night Vale doesn’t tend to react well to investigation.”

“If I promise not to investigate you or your organisation can I please just-“

“We’re not talking about us.” The driver snapped. “Honestly, we don’t care if you investigate us.”

“You don’t?” Asked Carlos.

“No.” he shrugged. “Everyone knows we’re here; they just don’t talk about it. You can spend all the time in the world ‘investigating’ us if that’ll make you happy, but really nobody cares.”

“Oh…then what do you mean by-“

“We mean the town doesn’t react well to be investigated.”

“You mean the people?”

“Are you even listening to me, Mr Cienca?” The driver scowled.

“But-“

“He said the town.” The passenger moaned in frustration.

“The town?” Asked Carlos. “As in the actual-“

“Look.” The driver snapped. “Night Vale isn’t like most towns. I know it, you know it, and even though they all try to deny it, everyone else knows that. There’s a very, very delicate balance and if you disturb it with your ‘science’ something terrible is going to happen. Maybe not for another week, maybe not for another year, maybe not even to you, but it will happen. If you leave now everything might be okay. If you don’t, we can’t get responsible for your safety.”

“I…I can’t.” Carlos quietly admitted.

“What do you mean you can’t?” The driver scowled.

“I can’t leave. I’m under contract.” He explained.

“If that’s the case then we can’t let you leave either.”

“Are you going to leave me here?” Carlos asked fearfully.

“Of course not. We’re not evil. There’s a lovely little mine where you can go until your ‘contract’ ends.” 

“A mine?” Carlos explained.

“Yeah, it sounds worse than it is. It’s actually really nice. You’ve gone TV, HBO, they change your sheets every day. It’s kind of like a fancy underground hotel that you can’t leave.” The passenger explained.

“Oh…” he replied calmly. “Well, that does sound nice, but I don’t think-“

“He’s resisting. Knock me out.” Said the driver.

“Woah, hang on, wait.” Carlos protested as the passenger started walking towards him. He tried to struggle free from his restraints, but it was no good. Luckily, there was no need for a speedy escape. The room feel silent at the sound of a ringing phone.

“Excuse me one moment.” Said the driver as he took his phone out of his pocket.

“Sure, take your time.” Carlos smiled nervously as the driver picked up.

“Hello…speaking…yes we-wait really? Are you sure? Well thank you, that’s very generous of you… you have a great day too.” He put his phone down and looked back at Carlos. “You’re free to go.”

“Really?” Carlos sighed with relief.

“Untie him.” He nodded to the passenger. The passenger nodded back and untied him. Only when his wrists were free did Carlos realise how much the ropes were hurting him. He gasped at the sudden release of pressure. “Now get out.”

“C-can I get a ride back?”

“No. Just keep walking straight and look out for lizards. You’ll be fine.”

Carlos left without saying goodbye. The walk back to Night Vale was impossibly long and it wasn’t long before his feet were screaming in pain. It was the middle of the night before he finally got back to the lab to collect his things, where he was surprised to find the light still on and his team still inside. Even more surprisingly, they weren’t alone. Cecil was also there. All four of them were surrounded by paper.

“I’m just saying it might be a little overboard.” Said Robin as Carlos stood unseen in the doorway.

“There’s no such thing as overboard. If sky text is available, then it just makes sense to use it.” Cecil explained.

“We already have the posters.”

“But you can’t ignore sky text.”

“Urm, guys…” said Carlos. As soon as he did, the conversation stopped as all eyes turned towards him.

“Oh, thank God.” Said Cecil. He rushed over and gave Carlos a crushing hug, which didn’t help with all the aches and pains he’d developed from the chair.

“Hi, Cecil.” Carlos croaked from inside the air restricting embrace. Cecil quickly realised what he was doing and released him. “What are you doing here?”

“Our phoneline got cut so we went to borrow his to call Mr Markson. He started freaking out and we couldn’t get him to leave.” Marsha explained.

“I was just worried that you’d gone missing. That’s all. We made posters.” Cecil handed him one of the sheets of paper, which read the following:

Missing:

Name: Carlos Cienca.

Age: Like twenty something we think (apparently nobody thought to ask).

Appearance: Perfect.

If found, please contact the station and we’ll come pick him up.

Of course, nobody had a picture of him, so in the place of one was a photocopied pencil portrait.

“Wow, Cecil, this drawing is really good.” Said Carlos.

“Thank you.” Cecil smiled. “My niece, Janice, drew it.”

“You got your niece involved?” Carlos laughed.

“He got everyone he could involved.” Said Robin.

“She’s a lovely kid.” Jess added.

“Well, kind of a shame they’re going to waste. I’ll have to keep one.” Said Carlos.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Said Cecil.

Carlos didn’t sleep much that night. The events of the day kept playing on his mind. It wasn’t the capture and attempted imprisonment; it wasn’t the interrogation. It was that they had said just before they’d attempted to knock him out. ‘Something terrible is going to happen. Maybe not for another week, maybe not for another year, maybe not even to you, but it will happen’. If not to him, then to who? And how could the town itself act against him? More importantly, if it was really that important to everyone’s safety that he stay out of the way, then how did a single phone call convince them to let him go? He turned up to work the next day bruised and drowsy. He looked out the window to where the car was usually parked. They didn’t show up that day. In fact, they never showed up again.


	9. Chapter 8: Prophecy

Thoughts of disaster haunted Carlos’ mind throughout the following days. He tried to shake it off. After all, he would have never been let go if he was really that much of a threat, right? They were probably just trying to scare him. They’d succeeded too. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t focus. He could barely refer to himself as a functional scientist. His team brushed him off. A town couldn’t do anything, it was just a place, it didn’t care what he did. It just wasn’t scientific. Cecil was a little more helpful. At least he believed everything Carlos was saying.

“The town will warm to you.” He reassured him. “As long as you don’t do anything too risky.”

“But everything in this town is risky.” Carlos insisted. “How will I know what too risky is?”

“You’re a smart man, Carlos. When you reach that point, you’ll just know.”

Carlos wasn’t convinced that he would know. Even if he somehow did, he wasn’t convinced the town would care. What if he’d already crossed the line without realising it and now he or someone else was locked into a count down to destruction? Desperate to get the thought out of this head, he went to the only other person he could trust. He went to Josie.

“Carlos.” She smiled at him warmly when she answered the door. “I knew you’d come to me sooner or later.”

“Hi, Mrs Ortiz. Can I talk to you?” He asked sheepishly.

“Of course you can dear. Come in. And please stop calling me Mrs Ortiz, makes me feel old.” 

She led him into her cosy little living room. Inside was a pale green armchair in front of a tall reading lamp, which was guarded by two almost teen foot winged creatures who stood either side. Across from it was a sofa, matching in colour, which was separated from the armchair by a wooden coffee table.

“Would you like some tea, Carlos?” asked Josie.

“No thank you I-“

“You will have tea, Carlos.” Hissed one of the figures.  
“Yes, it will help with what’s to come.” Added the other.

“What’s to come?” Carlos asked nervously.

“Oh, don’t mind the Erikas. They’re just being dramatic.” Josie waved off. “But really, tea will help you relax. You look like somethings stressing you to death.”

“Yeah, yeah tea sounds good.”

Josie invited him to seat on the sofa and returned a few minutes later with two steaming hot cups of sweet tea. Once she was finally satisfied that Carlos was calm and didn’t need feeding, she finally settled down on the armchair.

“So, what’s bothering you, dear? Is Cecil again?” 

“No, he’s actually been really kind to me.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ve known Cecil my whole life. He’s either a delight or a terror, there’s no in between.”

“Don’t you mean his whole life?”

“Oh, you interlopers and your linear understanding of time.” Josie chuckled as she took a sip of tea.

“It’s not Cecil.” Carlos shook his head. “I just had a kind of weird conversation with two men a few days ago again and…Josie, I don’t think it’s good for me to be here.”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…everyone here is very close. Everything is balanced around all these personalities all existing here for years and I’m just…I’m just here messing all that up, getting in the way…and I think it’s going to break things up somehow.” He explained.

“We’ve all felt like an interloper at some point in our lives, Carlos, and we all worry about how being on the outside with affect the future.” Josie pointed out as she took another sip of tea before placing it down on the table. “But if it helps, there’s a way you can see the world a little clearer.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Carlos, rapidly placing his own tea down.

“Carlos, what do you think of the supernatural?”

“Well, it’s not entirely scientific…” He started, before he noticed the Erikas emitting a low growl. “But I certainly find it interesting.” He quickly added.

“So, what if I could look and see how you being here will affect things?” She smirked.

“Ar-are you trying to say you can see the future?” 

“I’m saying I can see a future. I don’t know whether it will be the future, it’s just the most likely possibility. It’s kind of like the universe showing me the odds.” Josie explained. “I must warn you though, I won’t lie to you about what I see. I can’t guarantee what you’ll find out will be comforting.”  
Carlos looked around as if someone would appear out of the blue to tell him what he was supposed to do next. The Erikas stared at him, no longer growling, but offering no help. It was all up to him. He nodded firmly. It was better to have some idea where he was going than walking in the dark.

“Okay, let’s do it.” 

Josie moved the cups out of the way and reached her arms across the table, palms up. Carlos reluctantly took them both.

“Close your eyes, dear.” Josie said calmly before closing her own. Carlos glanced around again and obeyed. Even there, safe and sound in Josie’s living room, the darkness behind his own eyelids was terrifyingly oppressive. “Now, lets see. Hmm…interesting…very interesting.”

“What is it?” Asked Carlos, opening one eye to see if he was missing something.

“Eyes.” Josie snapped. Carlos quickly shut them again before Josie continued. “You’re not as much as an interloper as you make out are you, Carlos? You and Night Vale have crossed paths before.”

“I…don’t really see what my past has got to do with this.”

“Your past has everything to do with this. There is no future without it.”

Josie was right, Carlos and Night Vale had crossed paths before. When he was a child, his family moved all over the place for his father’s job, which meant he was constantly in a different house. Despite all the warnings from the movies, he loved exploring the attics and basements, and, providing it wasn’t dangerous, his parents would let him keep pretty much anything he found in them. When he was about six or seven, he’d been in one these attics when he found an old, battered radio. It didn’t work but he loved it with all his heart, so he took it virtually everywhere with him. Six months later and halfway across the country, he’d been playing with the dial when he heard it. The voice of a man named Leonard Burton, coming to him through a blizzard of static from a town called Night Vale. He talked about all sorts of things that Carlos didn’t understand, like cold suns and backwards moving time, so he took up an interest in science so he could explain it all.

Then, on his ninth birthday, the day his parents finally indulged in his new obsession and bought him his first chemistry set, the broadcasts stopped. He tried has hard as he could to get them back, he experimented with every frequency on the radio and every other radio he could get his hands on, but his quiet desert community was gone. As he grew, he convinced himself it had never existed at all, at least not really. It had just been some sort of weird story, a fictional series, that had taken his impressionable young mind in. It had been a good story, a story that gave him a lifelong passion for science, but it had been cancelled. The story was over. He moved on, but he never fully forgot. So, when Mr Markson uttered the towns name, Carlos instantly knew he’d listen to anything the man had to say.

“It’s funny how things work out.” Said Carlos. “Of all the scientists in America that could have been asked to come here, it ended up being me. It’s just such as coincidence.” 

“Oh, I’m not a great believer in coincidences. Are you?” Said Josie, and even with his eyes closed Carlos knew she was smiling. “But like you said, we’re here for the future. Are you sure you want to hear? Once you hear, there’s no forgetting.”

“I want to hear.” Carlos gulped.

“Very well.” Josie squeezed his hands tighter and began. “You are tied deeply to this town. You are tied deeper than you could ever possibly know. You are the bringer of upheaval, but also of peace. You are the bringer of endings, but also of beginnings. You and your employer here will bring a hate stronger than Night Vale has ever known, and a love stronger still. Know this, death will come to Night Vale, death will come to you.”

Carlos yacked his hands away and opened his eyes. Josie cleared her throat and did the same.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you anything more specific, dear.” 

“It’s fine.” Carlos replied weakly.

“I can also do tarot readings.” She said eagerly.

“No.” Carlos shouted before composing himself. “Sorry. Just…no thank you.”

“Drink your tea, dear.” She sighed. “Like Erika said, it will help.”


	10. Chapter 9: Distress Signal

“I’m going to die.” Carlos grumbled as he paced up and down in the lab. His team watched dumbfounded after his long explanation, though it was more of a rant than anything.

“And you’re getting this from some crazy old lady?” Asked Jess.

“She’s not crazy. She’s a lovely woman who seemed to know an awful lot about me. And she told me that I’m going to die.” He explained as he continued to pace.

“Well, just think about this logically. All she said was that death will come to you. Death comes to everyone, so you’re probably fine.” Said Robin.

“She said death will come to Night Vale. I’m only in Night Vale for a year. I’m going to die this year. Just…with everything those men said. It’s adding up guys, it’s really adding up.”

“Carlos, will you please sit down and think about this like a scientist.” Sighed Marsha. 

“No time for that. Carlos the scientist is in the back right now, Carlos the panicky mess is currently in charge.”

“Well, we’re all in trouble.” Muttered Robin.

“I’m calling Mr Markson.” He announced. 

“No, wait.” Shouted Robin, lunging to grab Carlos’ collar, but he was at the phone before anyone could stop him. 

Mr Markson picked up surprisingly fast. Carlos and the team were used to talking to them in the evening to deliver daily reports, which mostly consisted of the line: “we found a thing and we have absolutely no idea how it works. We’ll keep posted”, but it was the middle of the afternoon. What did the man do all day? What did the man do at all?

“Hello this is-“

“Mr Markson?” 

“Ah, Mr Cienca. You’re early. Is everything okay? How are the wrists?” He asked.

“They’re fine. I just…wait, how did you know about that? I didn’t tell you about that.” Carlos scowled.

“Your team called me, remember? Besides, who do you think got you out?” He laughed.

“Right…Mr Markson-“

“How are those new friends of yours? Josie and that radio host you keep talking about. They all good? Are they telling you anything interesting?” He questioned.

“Yes, actually. That’s what I wanted-“

“You know I dated a radio host once? Nice guy. Got kind of weird near the end. Got…really weird near the end.” Mr Markson reminisced before snapping back to reality. “But he got in the way of work. Work comes first, understand?”

“What? Why does everyone keep asking me about Cecil? We’re not even…look I’m not calling to give you the daily report.” Carlos finally managed to say.

“Oh…” Mr Markson mumbled. “Well what on Earth are you calling for?”

“Mr Markson, I’d like to leave.” He admitted.

“You what?” His eavesdropping team shouted.

“I beg your pardon?” Mr Markson asked calming.

“I just…it’s just…”

“Mr Cienca, the two of us had a deal. You signed a form, it’s legally binding.” He reminded him.

“I know but-“

“What’s the problem, Mr Cienca. Are you scared?” He sneered.

“Well…”

“Because I thought a scientist wasn’t meant to be afraid of anything.” He hissed.

“I’m just a teacher, sir.” Carlos mumbled, his voice a near whisper. There was a short silence on both ends before Mr Markson let out a deep sigh.

“Alright, listen, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.” He muttered.

“I said listen.” He snapped before calming down. “I remember the first time I went out to do field experiments. It’s scary, I get it. It can feel like everyone is against you. Sometimes, everyone is against you.”

“Is this supposed to be helping?” Asked Carlos.

“Interrupt me again and I swear I’ll disconnect the call. The point is everything worked out for the best in the end. Now I’m here, running a company, sending out my own scientists, making a difference. You’re going to do that too, kid. Night Vale is going to thank you. Trust me.”

“Another point for team sentient town.” Carlos muttered.

“What? No. Towns aren’t sentient, Carlos. That’s very unscientific of you.” Mr Markson growled.

“Sorry.”

“But you’re there for a reason and I’m not going to let you walk away from. Besides, Cecil would be very upset.”

“Why does everyone-“ 

Mr Markson hung up before he could finish his sentence. Carlos sighed and placed the phone down. It seemed that he was stayed regardless of what he or the town wanted. He took a deep breath and calmed down. Mr Markson was right. He wanted to be a real scientist and that was going to mean taking big risks. If he was going to die in Night Vale, then he was going to die scientifically after the best year of his life.


	11. Chapter 10: The Discussion

The decision had been made. If he was trapped in Night Vale by the forces of prophecies and unread legal contracts, then he would spend the little time he had left without fear. He was a scientist; he was going to die with a test tube in one hand and a case file in the other. He set to work getting his new life in gear right away. He bought himself a small second-hand electric car so he could get around without experiencing anymore kidnappings, be they real or attempted, and cut his hair short so it wouldn’t get in the way of his experiments. He walked into the lab with a spring in his step. Everything was going to be just fine.

“Hey, Carlos, your boyfriend is doxing the barber.” Jess informed him as soon as he walked through the door. He sighed. Everything was going to be fine as it could get in Night Vale.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s a boy…man…who is a friend, but he’s not- wait he’s doing to what?” 

Jess switched on the radio, catching Cecil mid-sentence. Sure enough, he was throwing poor Telly into deep water. A vat full of the stuff. He just hoped the town wasn’t too easily persuaded. They seemed stubborn in everything else and Carlos prayed they couldn’t be moved to hurt the man.

“5’9 with a small moustache and a thick pot belly. He talks with an accent and sneers. Telly the barber cut Carlos’ beautiful hair. According to reports. Telly. Now, while I gather myself, let’s have a look at traffic.” 

Carlos switched off the radio. Okay, that was still a bit weird, but Cecil was a reasonable man. He was a strange man but reasonable. He would just talk to him and tell him to take everything back on air. He would remind him that it was his hair and Telly was only doing his job. He’d understand that. Cecil wasn’t going to be a problem.

“I’ll go talk to him. Wait here.” He said as he picked up his keys and headed towards the door.

“Where would we go?” Asked Robin.

“Will you please get some work done for once?” Shouted Marsha. Carlos didn’t reply to either of them. He was already rushing towards his car, which was parked in the spot where the vague to menacing government agents used to watch him, and drove off towards the station. 

If Carlos lived in a normal town, with a normal radio station, he would probably have been disturbed the screams omitting from the building. But Carlos didn’t live in a normal town, and Cecil didn’t work for a normal radio station, so the screams didn’t bother him. In fact, he barely registered them. He parked his car and walked into the reception. It seemed dark and completely abandoned. The light flickered, but it was more off than on, and a low primal growl which was impossible to locate echoed through the walls. Undeterred, Carlos went up to the desk and rang the bell.

“Psst, down here.” Whispered a small male voice. Carlos peered over the side of the desk to find a young man cowering behind it.

“Are you okay? What’s going on? Where’s C-“

“Shhh.” The man flapped his hands frantically. “Get over here.” Carlos rolled his eyes and moved behind the desk. At this point, he’d realised it was just easier to do what people asked. Plus, a lot safer.

“Where’s Cecil? And why are we whispering?” Carlos whispered.

“Station management’s loose. Cecil’s hiding under his desk until they calm down.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“I don’t know. Cecil can survive a ridiculous amount of stuff; he’ll probably be okay. Are you Carlos?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Hmm, Cecil’s right. You are beautiful.”

“Um…thanks.” Carlos blushed. “Listen urr…”

“Casper.” The man smiled.

“Casper. I really need to speak to Cecil.” He explained.

“You can’t go out there. You’ll die.” Casper told him. Carlos bit his lip. No, this wasn’t the way he was going to go out. He was going to enjoy the whole year.

“Fine, I’ll come back later. Can you tell him that I called?”

“Sure.” Casper nodded. Carlos stood up, only to duck back down as a chair smashed into the door, moved by an unseen force.

“On second thought, I could just stay here.” Carlos trembled.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Casper agreed. 

The pair stayed behind the desk for the next three hours. It was actually quite a leisurely afternoon. Carlos explained his research in Night Vale so far and Casper told him all about his young life within the town. They even played noughts and crosses. If only they had a pack of cards, Carlos would have happily stayed there all day. Eventually though, the lights came back on and the growling stopped. Station management was back in their office and it was safe to come out.

“Well, that’s that. For the next two years at least.” Muttered Casper. The pair stumbled to their feet. Their muscles ached from the prolonged crouching in the confined space. Surviving Night Vale required such a strong stretching regime.

“Cecil.” Carlos gasped as Cecil rounded the corner. He looked wide eyed and exhausted; his face paler than he’d ever seen. Carlos ran to his side; afraid he might collapse. 

“Carlos, what are you doing here?” Cecil asked through short breath.

“I-I was here to talk to you. Cecil, what happened?” The two sat against the wall closest to the door. Cecil’s legs were shaking far too much for them to stand.

“Contract negotiations went sour and station management got mad for some reason and…” Cecil’s voice trailed off as he swallowed back tears. “I lost Jerry.”

“I’m…I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

“Jerry, he was the intern here. He died today.”

“Oh God that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s not the first intern I lost. Not even the first this month. Radio is a very dangerous job, you know?” Cecil sobbed.

“Yeah.” He nodded. Carlos didn’t know, but it didn’t seem like the right time to bring that up, so he didn’t.

“I try not to let affect me on air. I try to brush it off, pretend nothing really major has happened. I’m…pretty good at that now. But it’s just…I’m supposed to be charge, I’m supposed to protect them, and I never can. No matter what I can never…” He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, quickly regaining composure like a man who’d lost a thousand times before and always come out the other side still breathing. “I’m sorry. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“I…” He’d come to argue. He’d come to tell Cecil that it wasn’t his place to say how people could and couldn’t interact with him. He’d come to say a lot of words that were bound to sting. But it wasn’t the time for any of that. There would be plenty of time in the future for fighting. For now, Cecil clearly needed him and even then, Carlos knew that there would come a day where he needed Cecil. So, as they sat there Carlos didn’t say any of the things he had planned to. Instead he said, “Nothing. I just wanted see you.”


	12. Chapter 11: The Hill

“I think it’s time to hold another meeting.” Carlos announced one morning. Three weeks had passed since the hair cut and he was yet to bring the issue up to Cecil, but Telly had left town for other reasons beginning with f and ending with raud so he’d ultimately decided to let it slide. There were more pressing problems, like the town’s careless attitudes towards plutonium and dinosaurs, two issues that Carlos never thought would come up in the same day. Heck, he didn’t expect dinosaurs to be a problem in his lifetime. It was this that prompted the idea to talk to the residents again. Maybe if they understood the scientific gravity of what the town faced on a daily basis, they’d take things a little more seriously, or at least stop adding to the town’s alarmingly high radiation level.

“That’s fine. Just make sure you don’t involve us.” Said Marsha.

“The hall is booked out for a discussion on dinosaur safety, which I suppose makes sense after last weeks attacks. What about the community college? Talking to the next generation might help sway the town towards a safer future. What do you think?”

“Again, we don’t care.” Marsha scowled. Carlos rolled his eyes. He really needed a better team.

“Community college it is then.” He mumbled.

He booked a hall at the community college for two days later and paid the deposit of three locks of hair and two drops of blood, though he didn’t want any of them back. He picked his least controversial research, though he wasn’t sure what counted as controversial in Night Vale. After all, he’d nearly been imprisoned for the act of existing and having a vague knowledge of helicopters. Luckily, the vague but menacing government agents didn’t show up. Mr Markson must have paid them very well. Or it could just be that they no longer cared. Few people seemed interested. As it turned out, Cecil’s outburst toward Telly had the unintended side effect of scaring people into leaving him alone. Since people were no longer showing up to his talks to scream at him, they’d mostly opted to just ignore him. The few people who sat in the lecture hall was a vast comparison to the crowded room that came to jeer at him on that first day.

Despite the lack of interest, Carlos continued regardless. He talked about his research into the strange seismic activity in the scrub land, the alarming noises that the sun made (which everyone seemed surprised to find out wasn’t a common occurrence), and the possible existence of parallel universes all converging on the town, though everyone quickly hushed him and encouraged him to move on when he brought that particular theory up. Mostly though he ranted about plutonium and why people should never, ever touch it. Seriously, he didn’t think anyone would ever need that spelling out for them.

Most people left as soon as the talk was over without asking any questions. Carlos was pretty sure at least half of them had tuned out halfway through the plutonium talk. He didn’t mind too much. The talk had been uneventful and at least he could say that he tried. Two people lingered in the hallway, Josie and Cecil.  
“Great talk as always, sweetie.” Said Josie, who greeted him with a hug.

“Thanks, Josie.” Carlos squirmed in the hug. He’d never been a big fan of being held us closely. Josie must have caught onto this because it didn’t take long for her to let go. “Hey, Ce. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh well, I’d never pass up a chance to support you. Plus, Station Management said I had to come to the college and try to recruit new interns.” He explained.

“Did you manage?”

“Oh, I didn’t try, I sat in your talk. They don’t need to know that though.” He winked.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Josie smiled. “Loving the new hair, Carlos.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m thinking of letting it grow out again.”

“Oh, so we’re on that timeline.” A glint of mischief flashed across her eyes as she smiled. She was walking away before Carlos could even comprehend the fact that he should have been asking questions.

“So…parallel universes.” Said Cecil.

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie, it’s really just a hunch. I know that’s not really scientific but…sometimes I just get these gut feelings, you know?”

“Is there a universe where you’re the citizen and I’m the interloper?”

“Sure.” He smiled. “Though in that universe I’m probably in jail.” This made Cecil laugh. God, he had a beautiful laugh. Beautiful laugh, beautiful smile, beautiful- 

Carlos pushed the thought away. He was getting distracted. He’d been getting distracted for several weeks now, ever since they got coffee if he was being completely honest, but for the most part it had been at the back of his mind. But since he went to the radio station, he’d been thinking more and more about Cecil every day. Still, Cecil wasn’t going to be a problem. A good scientist had to stay focused at all times, no matter what.

“Oh, there’s actually been something I’ve been meaning to show you. Have you got a few minutes?” Asked Carlos.

“Well as long as station management thinks I’m here I have about five hours free.” Cecil shrugged.

“Awesome. Follow me.”

Night Vale didn’t have any mountains, well it did, but everybody quite strongly denied this, so the only high point in the town was a hill, which was covered in a lush grass that was surprisingly green for a desert. It was a short walk from the community college and the pair partially jogged to the top, filled with energy as the sunset above them.

“Alright, now look where I’m pointing.” They sat down on the grass and Carlos stretched out his arm to point down into the town, towards the dog park. It wasn’t visible everywhere but if a person looked in just the right spot, they could see a beam of pure black shooting into the sky, up and up and out of sight. “Do you see it?” 

“Oh yeah…that’s weird.” Said Cecil as he stared towards the beam. 

“Oh well, if you think it’s weird then I should definitely be concerned.” Carlos joked. He lowered his arm and looked towards Cecil, who seemed completely amazed by the sight. Carlos had always loved the look of wonder in people’s eyes. It must have been a scientist thing.

“Absolutely.” Cecil smiled. “You know I’ve never been up here before. Hey, you can see my apartment.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Look, down there. Right in the middle of town.” Cecil pointed close to the beam to a little cluster of lights, in the middle of which was a small apartment building.

“Nice.” Carlos grinned. It must have been nice growing up in a town where virtually everything was a stone throw away. Nobody was ever far from home.

“You can see it closer if you like. Maybe inside.” Cecil playfully nudged.

“Cecil.” Carlos shook his head, though he couldn’t help but giggle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m perfectly happy to stay here.” Cecil reassured.

“Okay, let’s just watch this delayed sunset.”

“Delayed?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

So, there they sat. Carlos wasn’t sure how long they stayed there; he was too engrossed in the sky. Colours were so much more vibrant in Night Vale. Every little plant and flower looked as if it had somehow been enhanced. He watched as the scene in front of him turned from baby blue to fiery orange until it turned to a soft crushed velvet black. He was so entranced that he barely noticed himself moving towards Cecil. He quickly stopped himself from subconsciously leaning on him. He snapped back in reality. He was losing focus again. He couldn’t lose focus. But wow, how he wished he could. He wished he could stay in that moment for the rest of time, watching day turn to night above tinkling lights with Cecil by his side.

The realisation hit him like a truck.

Cecil was going to be a problem.


	13. Chapter 12: Team Meeting

“So, let’s go over this one more time.” Said Marsha, as the whole team sat crowded around one small table in the lab. When Carlos had called an emergency meeting, she thought that it was going to be about their research, not his relationship problems. Yet there they all were, trying to work out how such a smart man could act so stupid. “He likes you?”

“Yes.” Replied Carlos.

“And you like him?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re upset about this?”

“But it’s not that simple.” Carlos insisted. Marsha rolled her eyes dismissively. Why couldn’t they understand? It wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship when every single day he was getting that much closer to leaving. Leaving or dying, which either way wouldn’t be good for Cecil. So now he was just stuck with a boat load of feelings with no water nearby to conveniently sink them in.

“You know, I’m beginning to see why you haven’t been in many relationships.” Robin commented.

“Thanks, Robin.” Carlos sighed.

“Anytime, dude.”

“Carlos, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re an idiot.” Said Jess.

“Oh okay, everyone just let loose. Don’t mind me.” Carlos grumbled.

“Oh no you’re a really smart guy, but you’re also, like, really of dumb. You’re not looking for short term, right?” She asked.

“I didn’t think I was looking for anything until about 12 hours ago.” He muttered.

“I know, but our job is to adapt best on environment. So, with the new variables in hand, you’re not looking for short term.” Jess replied firmly.

“No, I mean I’d like to, I think, but you know if things get serious and then I have to cut things off I just…Urgh, how have humans survived this long?” His head killed as he held it in his hands, pulling at his soft, slowly recovering hair.

“You think why too hard.” Said Robin.

“I’m a scientist. We’re all scientists. Thinking is literally our whole thing.” Carlos shouted.

“There’s no need to get hysterical.” Marsha snapped.

“You’re right. Sorry, Robin.” Carlos sighed.

“It’s fine.” Robin shrugged.

“Well, then it might be best to cut him off. Stay separate, let your feelings fade and the timer run out.” Suggested Jess.

“What?” Carlos exclaimed. “We don’t even get to be just friends?”

“Do you think you can just be friends?” Asked Marsha.

“I…don’t know.” He mumbled.

“Then Jess is right. It’s the only way to force you both to move on.”

“Except, he can’t.” Robin pointed out.

“He can’t?” Asked Jess.

“I can’t?” Carlos asked curiously.

“Mr Markson wants us to scope out the radio station.” He continued.

“Why?” Carlos prompted.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I mean, you spend half of your daily reports talking about that place. Maybe he was interested in that whole radiation thing.”

“Well, one of us can check it out.” Marsha asserted.

“But he wanted Carlos to do it. He says it’ll be easier, what with Cecil already trusting him and all.”

“I’m not manipulating Cecil for scientific research.” Carlos scowled.

“It’s not manipulation. Just…use of all available resources.” 

“I said one of us will check it out.” Marsha snapped. “Mr Markson doesn’t need to know. Trust me, Carlos. The pain will pass. Just focus on your science.”

“Right…” Muttered Carlos. “Science.”


	14. Chapter 13: Distractions

In theory, avoiding Cecil should have been easy. He worked in the day and cowered from the town’s roaming beasts at night, the same as most people, and Carlos had his own work to keep him busy. He even managed to pass a few days without trying with the help of a mind-altering power cut. He was extremely relieved to find out those weren’t common. Mind-altering gas leaks on the other hand...

Still, theories and reality had an annoying habit of not matching up. Avoiding Cecil was extremely difficult, not physically, but emotionally. Cecil was a curious man who often tried to reach out to Carlos for comments on scientific phenomenon and it took a lot of power both as a man and a scientist not to answer. At first, he’d tried to dispatch members of his team to answer questions for him, but they all found Cecil ‘too much’. Nobody had ever actually explained what the exact definition of ‘too much’ was. So, Carlos attempted to block him out completely. He ignored his requests for statements, he removed his name from journal entries, and took the radio out of the lab entirely, which was met with very little protest. Even then, Cecil lingered in his mind. Stupid thoughts, not so easy to avoid.

“You know what you need to do?” Asked Marsha one morning.

“Change my name and move in with my aunty in Venezuela?” Carlos shrugged.

“No. What you need to do is distract yourself.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”

“Sitting in the lab writing down random numbers and getting high of supernatural energy surges-“

“You make it sound like I did it deliberately.” Carlos grumbled.

“Is clearly not having the desired effect. Maybe you should go outside. Go into the desert. I’m sure there’s plenty of science out there.”

“You could always go to the draw bridge.” Suggested Jess.

“Drawbridge? What drawbridge?”

“Out in the desert.”

“Is there…water out there?”

“Take a guess.” Muttered Robin.

“Drawbridge…in the desert.” Carlos thought out loud. Was that a Night Vale thing?

“It’ll keep you busy.” Jess smiled encouragingly. 

“Yeah…yeah you’re right. Fresh air, strange building choices. Back to basics.” Carlos nodded as he gathered up his lab coat and bag.

“Be sure to write stuff down. Something coherent.” Said Marsha, forcing an A4 notepad towards him. He grabbed it without looking back and dashed out of the door to his car.

“I’m extrapolating from the evidence. The cave paintings mainly resemble smudges now-“Cecil’s voice rang clear through the radio. The stupid thing turned itself on every time he started the engine. It was as if it was taunting him. He quickly turned it off before he could figure out what he was talking about.

There was no drawbridge in the desert, not a solid one at least. Instead, there was a few meandering construction workers, a pile of crayons and wet cardboard, and a sign that read ‘Night Vale Drawbridge. Coming eventually’. Carlos approached the site. The closer he got the more of a mess it looked. He was sure that it wasn’t a Night Vale thing, it was just an incompetency thing. He stared at the scene and wrote down the word ‘unstable’. He hadn’t yet decided whether he meant the building materials or the people.

“Are you lost?” Shouted one of the construction workers.  
“Urr…no. I’m just looking around.”

“Oh…well do you have any suggestions?” He asked.

“Suggestions?”

“On how to build this thing.” He kicked the soaking pieces of cardboard out of frustration. Carlos couldn’t help but wonder how they got so wet in the first place, considering it hadn’t rained in weeks, but for some reason that seemed like the wrong thing to ask. If he was going to be totally honest, he’d suggest not building it at all. He doubted they’d take that as an answer.

“Have you tried changing the building materials?” Carlos asked.

“We have.” Another nearby construction piped in. “We’ve used whipped cream, marshmallows, ceramic bowls, pipe cleaners…”

“I was thinking maybe something a little more traditional.” He suggested.

“Like what? Cement? Bricks?” The first man interrogated.

“Well no-“

“Bricks don’t make good drawbridges. They’re not flexible enough.”

“Maybe wood?” He shrugged. A deathly silence fell over the area as their eyes stabbed into him.

“Wood?” Asked the first construction worker. His voice was low and heavy, and his words felt like a threat.

“Yes?” Carlos asked cautiously.

“As in trees?” Asked the second construction worker.

“Yes, well that is normally-“

“You suggest we use our brothers and sisters to build a drawbridge.”

“I urr I don’t know what that-“

“Trees are us. Trees are us.” The pair began to chant.

“Oh, okay I’m just going to…I’m gonna go.” Carlos quickly backed towards the car. The pair followed, chanting louder and louder as they went. In a spilt second Carlos decided that it was definitely the people who were unstable. “Y-you obviously don’t have to take the suggestion. You can just um…”

“Excuse me.” A familiar voice approached the scene. While Carlos and then men had been talking, Josie had appeared beside the car. The group quickly turned their attention towards her. She didn’t seem remotely concerned. In fact, she was smiling. “Do you mind leaving my friend alone?”

“No. He made a heinous suggestion. He must be taken to the trees for judgement.” Explained the first construction worker.  
“Woah, I’m sorry, what?” Carlos exclaimed.

“Hmm, I see.” Nodded Josie. “Perhaps someone else will be able to persuade you. Erika.” She yelled to the sky. The men flinched away.

“Okay, okay. He’s all yours.” The second construction worker said frantically.

“That’s what I thought.” Josie said firmly. “Carlos, sweetie, I have a letter for you.”

“A letter? Did you come all the way out here for that? Also, doesn’t Night Vale have a mail service?” Carlos asked.

“Of course not, dear. I was out for a walk. I was going to deliver the letter to you later. And yes, we do have a mail service, but I don’t think you’re ready to meet them yet.” She explained.

“Why not?”

“You’ll see in good time. Here you go.” She reached into her jacket pocket and handed Carlos a sealed brown envelope. He quickly opened it and read the contents. It read:

Dear Mr C. Cienca,

The phonelines appear to be down. I’m yet to receive any information as to why. Hopefully, that’ll be sorted within a week. In the meantime, please send a file containing your research weekly. My company has deemed your research thus far inadequate. Try harder. Put your feelings aside and turn your attention to the radio station. Remember, work comes first.

Yours Sincerely,

Mr D. Markson.

Carlos sighed and stuffed it in his pocket. Mr Markson hadn’t bothered to provide a mailing address.

“Thanks, Josie.” Said Carlos. “Would you like a lift back to town?”

“That would be wonderful. Oh, could we have the radio on. It’s history week and I’m quite excited to hear some of those old stories.”

“Sure.” He mumbled. He supposed that avoiding Cecil really was going to be impossible. He’d just have to be professional about it. Work came first.


	15. Chapter 14: Lights

For another two weeks Carlos managed to lie his way to safety. Sure, he was keeping an eye on the radio station, there was nothing wrong at all. Then the phoneline finally got fixed and his oh so wonderful team ratted him out. Four months in and he was already on his last warning. If he didn’t step up his game funding would be cut, and he’d be stranded in Night Vale permanently. Night Vale didn’t seem like a great place to be without money. He was going to have to face it. It was time to pay another visit to the radio station.

He suspected everything would be fine. It wasn’t like he had to stay long. It would be a quick in and out, easy peasy. Maybe he wouldn’t even have to talk to Cecil. He could talk to Casper or station management, though he would definitely prefer Casper. He took several deep breaths as he lingered outside the main entrance, a small black device in his hand. It was going to be easy. Just find Casper, take some readings, ask some questions, leave before Cecil even knew he was there. In and out. He placed his free hand on the door and took another breath. He’d be super quick. In and out.

Casper’s gaze shot towards him as he let himself in. His hair shot in the all directions and his eyes were shadowed by black bags, but he still smiled as Carlos approached the front desk. At least the lights were on this time, so he could actually see where he was going.

“Carlos, long time no see.” Said Casper.

“Hey, Casper.” Carlos smiled.

“Cecil is upstairs. His show hasn’t started yet, so he’s got time to talk to you.” 

“Oh, I’m not here to talk to Cecil. I was actually just hoping-“

“Carlos.” Carlos winced as he heard Cecil’s voice behind him. Since he’d managed to avoid the radio after the drawbridge incident, he’d almost forgotten how soothing that sweet baritone was. Of course, he wasn’t there to be soothed, he was there for science. Work came first. Work. Came. First. He spun around. Cecil stood there with an empty mug in his hand, just staring right at him. “I haven’t seen you in, well since the hill. How long is that? A month?”

“Yeah…hi, Cecil.” Carlos replied quietly. He tucked a loose strand of his rapidly recovering hair behind his ear, which seemed to help a little with his nerves.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh…you know…science.” He smiled awkwardly, pointing at the softly beeping machine.

“That’s great. You know I’ve been reading up on some science lately.”

“You’ve been reading?” Asked Casper.

“You didn’t hear that.” Cecil told him.

“Understood.” Casper sighed. Carlos suspected that there was a lot of things Casper ‘didn’t hear’.

“I find the artificial intelligence stuff particularly interested. I mean, I’ve always been cautious around technology.”

“As you should be.” Carlos nodded.

“But…I don’t know. I think it might be nice to make some new friends. Think of all the little robot buddies we could have.” He continued.

“Yeah, we could have robot friends and robot pets and robot-“ He was rambling again. He cleared his throat and calmed down. He knew he would never see Cecil make his computer friends. He’d be long gone by then. “I mean, that’s probably quite a way of in the future.”  
“Well, the future is always getting closer to the present. There’s no sense in ignoring it.”

“True…” The stood in awkward silence. Carlos really hoped that Casper would step in, but of course, there was no such luck. 

“What does the machine do?” Cecil asked, breaking the silence at last.

“It measures…materials.” He actually had no idea what materials it was measuring. Marsha had just shoved it in his hand and told him to go poke around. He didn’t know whether the gentle beeping meant, nor the display number of 3.1. 

“Hmm, what are my material measurement?” 

“I don’t know. Let’s have a look.” Carlos smiled. He held the device forward towards Cecil’s chest. The machine went wild, no longer beeping but letting out a near deafening buzz. There was no display number, just a large green ‘ERROR’ message scrawled across the screen. Carlos carefully lowered it again. Once away from Cecil, it quickly calmed down and went back to quietly displaying 3.1. “Huh, that’s weird.”

“Is weird good?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Oh…well, I should probably go get some coffee before the show starts. You’ll be listening, right.”

“Um, sure.” Carlos cringed. “See you later.” There, that was perfect. The conversation had naturally ended, only a few weird things happened, and now he could just leave. Nothing more had to be said, right? Right? “Oh hey, Cecil.” No, idiot.

“Yes?”

“I…urr…I was just wondering…um…”

“What? What were you wondering?” Cecil asked, sounding much more eager than he had intended.

“Could you ask your listeners to contact me if they saw any lights coming from the canyon the other day?”

“Oh.” Cecil responded disappointedly. “The one’s in Radon Canyon.”

“Yeah, I think that’s what it’s called. I don’t know, I just feel like it could be something…sinister. It makes me worried for this town. I mean it’s so small and you’ve got all this weird stuff happening I just…I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting.”

“No, no it’s good to be pre-emptively afraid of sinister forces. It saves time later on. I could interview you if you like, get the word out.”

“No, thank you. I should really get going so…” Silence fell once again. This time there didn’t seem to a convenient way out, so his brain went into full panic mode. “Bye.” He suddenly blurted out and made a run for it. He sped off in his car before Cecil could fully react. He parked up a few blocks away and sat gently slamming his head into the wheel. Stupid. It was going so well and then he went and weirdly ran out? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Apart from that odd ending everything had been pretty much fine, he certainly had something to tell Mr Markson about. His superiors would likely be very interested, they’d probably want to know more. Mixed feelings swirled around Carlos’ head. He’d be back in contact with Cecil very soon.


	16. Chapter 15: The Interview

Carlos may not have known what the error message meant but he did know one thing, there was now a perfectly scientific reason for Cecil to be on his mind, which meant he could see him without judgement from his team, or perhaps more accurately, from himself. After all, someone with those readings would be of great interest to Mr Markson and his ‘company’. It would probably win him a ton of brownie points if he found out more. So, he invited him to an interview, which Cecil gleefully accepted.

Holding the interview at the lab seemed like a terrible idea. For one, there were a lot of dangerous chemicals around that he didn’t entirely trust curious Cecil not to touch. Then, of course, there was his team, who knew way too much and weren’t afraid to let Carlos’ hidden affections slip. So where to hold such an important meeting? There was the radio station, but Carlos didn’t feel entirely safe there with the interesting state of station management. That just left two places. Cecil’s place or his? It would probably be rude to invite himself into Cecil’s home, even though the offer had been made on the hill, so Carlos cleaned his own apartment top to bottom and brewed tea in preparation of the visit.

“This is a lovely place you’ve got here.” Said Cecil as he hung up faux fur coat. Cecil’s fashion sense seemed to be getting more and more bizarre as their meetings went on, not that Carlos minded. His self-confidence was something to be admired. Carlos’ apartment wasn’t a lovely place. It was a small box apartment with one bedroom, no carpet, barely furnished, and still no lock. Still, it was only temporary. 

“Thank you.” Carlos replied as he hung his white lab coat, which was quickly becoming light grey with all the sand and dust constantly blowing in the air. He really hoped Night Vale had a normal laundromat. Had Cecil ever seen him without his lab coat? In the last four months, he couldn’t remember ever taking it off in front of anyone, not even his team. It was kind of like a security item, a warm little piece of home. “I have cookies. Do you want one?”

“Oh, I’d love one. Ah, but do they contain wheat? The city council has a warning out about wheat and wheat-by products at the moment. It’s nothing serious, at least not yet, but I don’t really want to take the risk, you know?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a gluten free mix from the Ralph’s. It’s kind of experimental.” He shrugged.

“Well, I can’t turn down an experiment.” Cecil winked as he took one of the sugary snacks. The pair took their seats as Cecil took a bite. “Oh wow, these are…interesting.”

“Are they bad?”

“No, no, they’re not bad. They’re just…very spicy.” Cecil winced.

“Spicy?” Asked Carlos. Cecil tried to say yes, but just ended up nodding through bouts of coughing. “Huh, I’ll have to look into that.” The box didn’t say anything on the front about spice, though he wouldn’t put it passed the cashier not to find a way to put a little something extra in there. At least he’d stopped barking at him.

After a quick glass of milk to cool Cecil’s burning mouth, the interview started. Carlos grabbed his notebook and his glasses. He didn’t actual need glasses, but they made him feel more intelligent and he kind of liked the look.

“Oh, I’d like to record this, if that’s alright with you.” Said Carlos. He presented a cassette recorder from out of his shirt pocket. He would have used his mobile, but recently blood had started seeping out of the home button and he wasn’t messing with that. 

“Carlos, I’m a radio host. I live to be recording.” Cecil smiled before taking another sip of milk. 

“Okay.” Carlos laughed nervously. He started the recording device and placed it on the table next to the box of spicy cookies. “So, I’d like to talk to you about your readings the other day.”

“Oh yeah, did you work out what that was?” Asked Cecil.

“No, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Totally, 100% for figuring out the readings. It wasn’t just an excuse to chat and drink milk with Cecil, no Sir. “I mean, Night Vale’s radiation levels are higher than usual, which is kind of concerning, but I doubt your readings are going to be higher than everyone else, unless you drank gallons of toxic waste as a kid.”

“I might have done. I don’t have the greatest memory when it comes to my childhood…or…. well anything.”

“I feel like you’d remember doing something like that. What about electrical signals? Do you have any implants? Like…a lot of implants.”

“Nope, this is all me, baby.” Cecil smirked, waving dramatically at himself, causing Carlos to laugh.

“Well, that’s good. Is there anything exclusive to Night Vale that you might have been exposed to that I wouldn’t know about?”

“How would I know whether or not something was exclusive to Night Vale?”

“Have you never left?”

“Once, to Europe, a very, very long time ago.”

“It can’t have been that long ago. I mean you’re only…I’m sorry, how old are you?”

“You know I’m…I’m not actually sure.” 

“Huh.” Carlos quickly made a note. Sure, there was bad memory, but not knowing Cecil not knowing his own age was a whole new level of forgetfulness. “You know I went to Europe once. I went to France. And I lived in Italy for a short time, but only for a few months.”

“Oh, I know French. Como estan tus burros?” Asked Cecil.

“That’s Spanish, but my donkeys are fine, thank you.”  
“I meant to say how was your trip.” Cecil blushed.

“It was very nice. And don’t worry, I’ll teach you proper Spanish. No French though, sorry.”

“That would be fantastic.”

“So, where did you go?” Asked Carlos.

“Oh, I went all over the place. Alright, let me tell you about Svitz.” 

Carlos never managed to turn the conversation back to Cecil’s unusual readings, but then again, he didn’t really try. Instead, he listened to Cecil’s stories of countries he’d never heard of and got silently jealous of unnamed travel partners. Soon, things quickly moved to childhood summer holidays. Carlos scientific adventures in woods all across America, Cecil’s blurry, barely remembered staycations in Night Vale. They talked for hours, usually taking cookies out of the box, which despite the undeniable taste actually had quite a nice flavour to them. By the time the conversation finally ended, it was dark outside, and Carlos had gained very few helpful notes.

“Hmm, it’s half an hour earlier today.” Carlos muttered.

“What was that?” Asked Cecil.

“Nothing.” Carlos smiled as he handed Cecil his coat. 

“Hey, we should do this more often. I find it so easy to talk to you. I mean…not like on the radio. On the radio it’s just people listening to me. With you, it’s like your hearing me.”

“I…like talking to you too, Cecil.”

“I’ll see you soon. We can do more science or Spanish or Spanish science.”

“I’d love to do whatever Spanish science is.” Carlos laughed.

“We can find out together. Bye, Carlos. Thanks for the cookies.” Cecil waved as he walked away.

“Thanks for the science.” Carlos waved back. Spanish science. That sounded like fun. That could be their thing.


	17. Chapter 16: Early Mornings in the Lab

Carlos had never exactly had full faith in the police, but the police in Night Vale had an alarming approach to catching fugitives that he could only describe as questionable. Their plan towards armed criminals was basically to do nothing at all. Vigilante justice existed for a reason after all. Even worse, they refused to give a name or description, instead they just encouraged a general distrust of strangers. Since Carlos technically was still a stranger that threw him straight under the bus. He started sleeping in the lab. Staying in an apartment with no lock was bad enough with an armed fugitive walking around, an angry mob was a whole new level of unsafe.

“Morning sleepy head.” Marsha hit him lightly on the shoulder with a notebook. He jolted awake so fast that he normally fell off the two chairs he was laying on and the lab coat he was using as a blanket fell on the floor. His hair was a mess. He probably looked terrible. Under the circumstances, he didn’t really care. If he was going to be forced out of his home, then he was allowed to look as bad as he wanted. He stretched out dramatically and let out a loud yawn. He missed the comfort of his budget bed so much.

“Morning.” Carlos muttered. His eyes adjusted and narrowed on the blue notebook in Marsha’s hand. “Is that my notebook?”

“Mr Markson wants you to send some pages of your research off today. Be sure to take the unscientific parts out, Mr Carlos Palmer.” She smirked as she handed it over. Carlos swung his legs to floor and positioned himself on one of the chairs. It was instantly more comfortable than laying down.

“What?” Carlos panicked as he snatched the notebook out of his hand. He flipped to the back three pages, where the notes from Cecil’s interview. Everything started out fine. There were notes on possible reasons for Cecil’s poor memory, comments about Svitz, a country which Carlos was yet to find any legitimate information on, and then…oh no. While he’d been talking to Cecil he’d started doodling in an absent-minded manner. When he left, he closed the book without looking at what he’d done. Apparently, he’d been scribbling little signatures like a middle school girl the whole time. His face turned bright red. Was his subconscious really so blunt? He was sure that the psychologists back at The University of What It Is would have something to say about the whole ordeal. He hated those guys; they were so smug.

“You guys talking about Carlos notebook?” Robin walked through the door at instantly noticed Carlos stunned expression.

“Does everyone know about this?” Asked Carlos.

“Oh, just us two and Jess. We’d never let it leave the lab.” Said Marsha.

“Providing your nice to us, of course.” Robin winked.

“Could you please not go threw my things?” Carlos sighed.

“This is supposed to be an open and honest team, Carlos. Besides, we thought we’d find research not…whatever that is.” Robin explained.

“I really hope Cecil didn’t see what I was doing.” He mumbled.

“Oh, he probably found it cute. He flirts with you on the radio, you flirt directly in front of him in a notebook. Two weirdos together, you’re honestly perfect for each other.” Said Marsha.

“Thanks…” Carlos blushed. “I’ll take this stuff out and send the relative information off. Is…there anything else that I should know about?”

“Nothing else in the notebook but…” A poorly concealed smirk started to spread across Marsha’s face that sent a creeping feeling through Carlos’ soul.

“What?” He asked cautiously. Did he even want to know the answer? He wasn’t entirely sure that he did.

“You talk in your sleep.” She smiled. Carlos’ cheeks felt they’d been set aflame. He had to find a lock smith. Sleeping in the lab was clearly no longer an option.


	18. Chapter 17: Wheat Snakes (Part 1)

Professional locksmiths were hard to come by in Night Vale, which was rather surprising considering the amount of life ending dangers that could easily walk into people’s homes. Luckily, after several days of sleeping in the lab, Josie pointed Carlos in the direction of a DIY store and sent the angels over to fit the lock. With the door secured and the armed fugitive captured, he returned to his apartment to get something resembling decent sleep. Things remained peaceful for nearly half a month, but Night Vale never stayed quiet for long. Threats came from the strangest of places, like Carlos’ own kitchen.

It started early in the morning and Carlos thought he was a hallucinating at first. He walked into the kitchen, blurry eyed and still half asleep, in search of quick breakfast. Toast seemed like an easy fix. After all, toast had never done him wrong before. He took two slices out of bread out of the package and for a moment he could swear they had eyes. He shook it off and put them into the toaster. He’d barely turned his back when he heard a pop and an ear-piercing hiss. His bread was no longer seemed like an ordinary, perfectly viable breakfast option. Instead, through what Carlos could only presume was some kind of voodoo, they appeared to be live, thin snakes, and they clearly didn’t like having the force of an artificial sun beating down on them. They leaped angrily onto the counter, burn patterns tattooing their scales. He stared at them, dumbfounded. He turned to his loaf of bread, which was now a bunch of snakes, all of which were staring right back. For a few seconds, there was a silent staring contest, which was finally broken by angry hisses. Carlos let out an involuntary scream and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.

So, bread was snakes now. He wasn’t as surprised as he should have been, but there was no denying that he was shocked. He wasn’t sure whether they were venomous or not, but he presumed all enraged snakes were some degree of dangerous. There was no way he was going back into the kitchen until they were gone. Still, it wasn’t like they were going to go away by themselves. The front door was closed and, thanks to him, locked. Besides, even if they did somehow leave the building, he didn’t want them loose on the world. Night Vale may have been a dangerous place, but there were still innocent people around and he didn’t want to add to the stack of problems. He had to call someone, but who? Pest control? He didn’t know the number. The police? They hadn’t been particularly helpful so far and he wasn’t entirely sure that 911 was the correct number in the town. Things that were standardised elsewhere rarely matched with Night Vale. There was one number he knew. He wasn’t sure how it would help, but maybe he could get some advice, or at the very least some moral support.

“Hello, this Night Vale radio. Cecil Palmer speaking.” It was strange hearing Cecil sound so professional. Even on the radio his tangents and outbursts made his show seem so casual.

“Urr, hey Ce.” 

“Carlos.” He replied energetically. There he was, excitable, emotion filled Cecil. His Cecil. “I have so much to tell.”

“Um, can it wai-“

“So, you know that Apache Tracker guy? That’s the asshole white guy in the cartoonish headdress.” 

“Is that the one who disappeared, and you said, ‘thank God’?” asked Carlos. There was no escaping from conversations when Cecil was on a roll. It was like riptide; it was best to let it carry him. 

“That’s the one. Well somehow, he actually is native American now, and he can only speak Russian for some reason. That’s weird right?” He asked.

“Near impossible, I’d say.”

“I still hate him. How’s your research going? Did you learn more about those…what was it, earthquakes? One’s that nobody can feel?”

“Not yet, um, listen, do you remember those spicy cookies we had when you came over?” The time he would have to redirect the conversation towards the point would be short, this would be his one and only chance.

“Oh yeah, those were great. Always need milk with them though.”

“Well, the good news is they definitely didn’t contain wheat. The bad news is that everything that does contain wheat have turned into snakes and they don’t seem very happy.” Carlos explained.

“Sounds dangerous. Do you want me to tell my listeners?”

“Actually, I kind of wanted you to point me in the direction of some help but I guess you should let them know just in case this is going to become a regular occurrence. And hey, maybe they’ll know what to do.” 

“No snakes back home, huh?” Cecil laughed.

“Not out just slithering around.” Carlos muttered. The reptiles were hissing at his door now and the breakfast biscuits he’d been keeping in his top bedroom draw was now banging to get out. He stepped onto his bed in anticipation of a breakout.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Carlos, I’ll figure something out. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll call you right back.”

“No, Cecil, wait.” The phoneline went dead. He sighed. He was sure he’d be okay as long as he stayed on the bed with the door closed. Cecil would call him back eventually once something had been figured out. Several minutes passed. Five, then ten, then twenty. The hissing remained constant. Thirty, forty. After nearly an hour the apartment went silent. Carlos slowly approached the draw and peered inside. Good news, no longer a snake. Bad news, not a breakfast biscuit either. Not even close.


	19. Chapter 18: Wheat Snakes (Part 2)

Carlos might not have particularly liked snakes, but at least he understood them. Sure, their sudden appearance in his apartment was pretty bizarre, but the idea of snakes themselves made logical sense. Carlos couldn’t understand what had replaced them at all, though he might have been able to figure it out if he wasn’t busy cowering. Black smoke filled the bedroom, no longer held by his flimsy wooden door. It seeped through the cracks and circled with bed as he hid curled up beneath it. It probably wasn’t the safest place, but it felt comfortable.

“Come on, Cecil.” He whispered. There was a loud crash followed by a thud as something hit the wall and fell to the floor. Clearly whatever the smoke was had taken to throwing things. At least he didn’t own anything expensive. Of course, of all the towns in the world, he was going to be sent to the one where angry spirits could spoil his breakfast. The room fell silent. Was it over? It could actually be over.

“Hello?” He called out. No response. How was a spirit going to reply anyway? He crawled out and clambered to his feet. Everything seemed fine. His stomach grumbled. Finally, he could get some food and-

Bang.

Within a moment, he was knocked to the floor. He fell hard onto his arm. Maybe if had the luxury of a carpet it would have hurt less, but he doubted it would have saved his glasses. The left lens cracked, and the frame bent. Oh, the curse of superficiality. At least he didn’t need them. He rolled onto his back and threw the broken glasses aside. Above him the black smoke circled. His eyes widened and if he had the time he would have screamed, but it swooped down and grabbed him by the collar. It slammed him against the wall, leaving him kicking with his feet dangling above the floor. Great, this was how he was going to die, killed by an evil piece of toast.

His ringtone could just about be heard beneath the growl of the shadowy beast. Carlos wriggled free and dropped to the floor. He grabbed his phone and crawled back towards the bed. The monster grabbed his leg before he could make it. He put the phone onto speaker, which was the only way he could hear of the primal growls anyway, and let it drop to the floor as he clung to the bed’s leg for dear life.

“Cecil.” He yelled into the receiver.

“Hey Carlos, are you okay? Are you still holding out?” Asked Cecil.

“No, not okay. Not really holding out either.” The spirit tug on his legs to the point where Carlos thought it was going to pull it straight out of the socket. The fear filled sweat threated to force his palms to the slip loose and send him flying. 

“Okay, don’t worry. I’ve got some of your scientist friends here. They say to try and make yourself some sort of shelter out of mud and bones until the whole thing blows over.”

“Where am I supposed to get mud and bones from?” Carlos shouted, both out of frustration and an attempt to get above the growing noise.

“Don’t you have that stuff in an emergency pack? You were never a scout, were you?” 

“No, Cecil, I wasn-“His grip finally failed. The spirit slammed him into the floor. Pain seared through his head as the beast dragged him towards the door. He clawed desperately at the wooden planks in an attempt to slow him down, but it was doing nothing.

“Carlos, are you still there? Carlos?” Distress began to build in Cecil’s voice. Carlos couldn’t reply, his mind wasn’t capable to process words under the circumstances. Instead he could just about let out a scream, which offered a small bit of relief from the built-up stress, but it wasn’t going to save him. “Okay, just…just let me cut to the weather. I’m coming. D-don’t go anywhere.”

He would have liked to yell back ‘where on Earth do would I go?’, which he thought he conveyed pretty well through a series of yells. The monster forced him back into the kitchen. The bread packet, which was now completely empty, littered the floor, along with everything else that wasn’t nailed down. In one last ditch shot out survival, he leaped towards the kitchen counter and grabbed the side. It hurt his fingers like crazy, but it was better than dying. He screwed up his eyes and hoped beyond hope that Cecil had some sort of a plan. The spirit was having none of it. It hit from the side, launching him free from the counter. His head crashed into the floor. Nausea filled his entire body as his vision blurred and doubled. Darkness creeped in from the edges, covering everything in shadow, as he watched the attacker disperse across the ceiling.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, though he suspected it was several minutes, but when he finally started to regain consciousness, he couldn’t help but notice that something was shaking him by the shoulders. It didn’t feel the way it had when he was under attack. Instead of cold and aggressive, it was firm and warm. Someone was speaking, no not speaking, shouting, but he couldn’t quite tell what was being said. His head spun as he tried to open his heavy eyes, though even that took all the energy he had.

“Carlos, wake up. Carlos, please wake up.” Cecil knelt before him with his hands on gripping his shoulders. Tears filled his eyes. Carlos had never heard him sound so desperate.

“Cecil?” Carlos croaked. He managed to sit up. He could tell everything was going to hurt for a long time.

“Oh, thank God.” Cecil wrapped into a crushing hug so tight that Carlos couldn’t even move his arms to return the gesture. It didn’t help with the pain, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“I’m okay, Cecil. It’s okay.” Carlos tried to scan the room from his uncomfortable position. A sheriff secret police officer (though they weren’t that secret at all) starred down at him. They didn’t seem particularly affected by the situation.

“Carlos, this is extremely important.” Cecil announced, suddenly ending the hug and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Have you eaten any wheat or wheat-by products in the last 24 hours?”

“What?” Oh right, Carlos was so dazed that he could barely remember how the whole thing started.

“Carlos, please think.” 

“No, no I don’t think so.” He wasn’t sure if he’d eaten anything in the last 24 hours, but he felt too sick to be hunger.

“See, he’s fine.” Cecil scowled at the police officer. The figure ignored him and turned his attention to Carlos.

“You the guy Mr Markson sent?” The officer grumbled.

“Yeah, how did you know th-“

“Yeah, we’re not touching that. Have a nice day.” The officer left through the open door. It looked like it was half kicked off its hinges. So much for the lock.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You nearly gave me a heart attack back there.” Said Cecil.  
“I’m fine. Just a little disoriented.” And sick and achy and just generally not great, but he didn’t want to upset Cecil further.

“Come on, I’ll make you some soup and get those bruises sorted. Unlike you I got my scout’s first aid badge.” Cecil joked.

“Oh, I could have been amazing if I’d only gone to scouts.” Carlos laughed and rolled his eyes.

“I think you’re pretty amazing already.” Cecil smiled as he helped Carlos stumble to his feet.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the radio station?”

“Nah, the weather can last as long as I want it to. I’ve had it last for days before.”

“Oh…that’s…”

“That’s professional radio hosting.” Cecil winked.

The weather lasted for hours that day. Cecil’s bedside manner was surprisingly good, Carlos could get used to it. The soup he made was heavenly, enhanced by the lack of food throughout the day. It was a much better breakfast than toast, even if it was several hours late. Safe and calm, he couldn’t help but fall asleep on the sofa. He woke up at sunrise the next morning, tucked in bed, his previously wrecked kitchen magically cleaned, his broken door suddenly fixed. He beamed. Maybe he should have evil spirits attack him more often.


	20. Chapter 19: The Politics of Night Vale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the longer wait between updates this time. I've been busy moving into my second year student house. It's hard to find the time and energy to write when so much time is being dedicated to packing things up, cleaning my old flat, and physically move everything about. Now I'm back at home for the summer so hopefully updates will be a bit quicker again. Thanks for understanding.
> 
> And now back to your regularly scheduled viewing.

Not eating bread was a small price to pay for not being murdered in his own home, so Carlos tried to take it all in his stride. Night Vale had plenty of bizarre dietary supplements for the low, low price of ‘totally worth it dude, trust me’, which was about two dollars in actual currency. There was even an upside, though he wasn’t sure it was worth the pain of cuts and bruises. For a few days after the event in found himself being babied by his team and few friends. Even Mr Markson told him to take it easy. Carlos didn’t take it easy; Carlos was physically incapable of taking it easy, but he agreed to do less field work for a few weeks until he could walk properly again.

And then there was Cecil, sweet Cecil. He seemed to be more shaken up by the whole situation than Carlos was. He stopped by the lab every day just to make sure he’d made it into work safely, bringing fresh soup each time. By the end of the week Carlos had more soup than he knew what to do with. As flattering as it was Cecil, being a dangerously clumsy individual, was proving to be a bit of a health and safety risk. After three broken beakers and one small explosion that had left a black ring on the floor (which would almost certainly lose everyone their deposit when it was time to leave) they came up with a compromise. Cecil wouldn’t come to the lab unless absolutely necessary. Instead Carlos would text him when he made it to work and when he made it home at night, providing Cecil agreed to do the same. His life was dangerous too after all.

“Friends should look after each other.” Carlos winked as he handed Cecil a paper slip with his number on.

“Oh, so all it took for me to get your number was for one of us to have a near death experience. Does one of us need to get shot before we go to dinner?” Cecil joked.  
“Yeah, I’m hoping not to make the whole nearly dying thing a theme, but if you have wanted my number you could have just asked.” Carlos laughed.

“That would have been to simple. Still love you platonically.” Cecil grinned.

“Love you platonically too, Ce.”

Time passed and the babying stopped, though the texting rule remained in place. Night Vale moved onto the return of Hiram McDaniels, criminal, soon to be mayoral candidate, and five headed dragon. Carlos was surprised to discover that the last part wasn’t a metaphor.

“I can’t believe anyone would actually think about electing him.” Muttered Marsha.

“Because he’s a criminal or because he’s a dragon?” Asked Jess.

“…yes.”

“Cecil said he might be a good choice. Five heads are better than one, right?” Carlos piped in.

“Are you sure?” Asked Robin. “Because there’s four of us and we’re not doing too great.”

“Nonsense, we’re amazing. Besides, it’s probably different for…dragons.”

“But what if they argue with each other?”

“That’s exactly the kind of stereotype Hiram McDaniel is aiming to fight against.” Carlos explained.

“Who told you that?” Asked Jess.

“Cecil.” Marsha and Robin chorused before Carlos had a chance to answer.

“Cecil.” Carlos nodded.

“I wouldn’t pay much mind to it if I was you. It’s not like it’s going to affect us.” Marsha shrugged.

“Why not?” Asked Carlos.

“They’re not going to be in office for several months yet. They haven’t even started campaigns. We’ll be long gone before anything of note happens.”

“Do you think so?”

“Carlos, we’re only here for six more months. Night Vale works in strange ways, but an election has to take more than that, right?”

“…Six months. Is that all?” Had he really been in Night Vale for half a year already? It felt as if he’d arrived just a couple of weeks ago. They’d been eventful weeks, but so very short. Time was slipping through his fingers like desert sand. If it kept up it would all be over in the blink of an eye.

“I thought you’d be happy. You’ll be back home before you know it.”

“Yeah…” At the start of the year he would have been over the moon. He’d never wanted to be a part of Night Vale, he just wanted to get what he needed and leave, but he knew people now. He wanted to keep up his conversation’s with Josie and help the people stay safe with his little talks. He wanted to find what was going to happen with Hiram. He wanted to stay friends with Cecil. Would he keep texting him after he left? “I’m going to throw stones at the house that doesn’t exist…for scientific reasons.”

“You’re not allowed out yet.” Marsha called after him as he ended out the door. Carlos stopped and smirked.

“Are you going to tell on him?” He joked.

“Hmph no. Be sure to record the results.” She smiled. 

Results showed three things: one, windows of non-existent houses still shatter, two, owners of non-existent houses still get mad when people shatter their windows, and three, throwing stones at things really soothed Carlos’ mind. Six months was still a pretty long time, but it was a countdown to either death or simply leaving. Either one was going to separate him from the places and people he was coming love. If only there was some way he could stay longer. Not much longer, just a tiny bit more. A month, two months, he would leave eventually. But six months just wasn’t enough, nowhere near. He waited until he knew everyone had left the lab and snuck back in. He was getting more time, just a little bit longer.


	21. Chapter 20: Buying Time

Night Vale after sunset could be in an entirely different universe to Night Vale in the light. Though it was only a small town, the streets were always alive during the day, mostly figuratively, occasionally literally. There was always something going on. At night, the buildings were ghosts of their daytime selves and the streets were icy cold even in the middle of the desert. The creak of the main door pierced the frosty air. Carlos’ footsteps echoed as he headed towards the empty lab and turned on the lights, filling the room artificial yellow. The room was far from clean, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone cleaned up after anything, except maybe a few mopped up chemicals after Cecil’s visits, but there was a lot more space to breathe now that his team had taken their personal belongings home. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He didn’t have time to care about the room. Carlos was on autopilot. His vision was locked on the phone and he was being pulled towards it as fast as he could possibly go. He punched in Mr Markson’s phone number and waited as it rang. 

Please pick up. Please pick up.

“You’ve reached the office of Diego Markson. We’re afraid he’s not currently available to take your call.” Of course, he wasn’t at the office. Why would he be? It was the middle of the night. “Please leave your name and number and we’ll-“

“Hello, D Markson speaking.” Carlos jumped as the phone clicked.

“H-hey, sir, it’s Carlos.”

“Urgh, Carlos. What do you want? Do you know what time it is?” Mr Markson snapped.

“10.30.”

“What? No, it’s 3am.” Carlos looked at the clock. It was reading 10.30. Maybe it was broken. He grabbed his mobile and checked the display. Definitely 10.30. “Carlos? You still there?”

“Yes, sorry.” He replied, shoving his mobile back into his pocket. “I urr…I just wanted to talk to you about the deadline.”

“What about it?”

“I…I’d like an extension.” Silence hung so heavy in the air that Carlos felt as if he could choke on it. It seemed like Mr Markson had felt a way to glare at him through the phone, forcing his judgement right into Carlos’ soul.

“Why?” Mr Markson finally asked after what felt like hours.

“I think I could just work better if I had a little more breathing room to look deeper into the…urr…well…”

“Kid, you really think I’ve got the money to keep you hanging around for no reason?”

“Considering you paid of the police, yes.” Carlos muttered.

“You know what, I probably could, but I’m not going to. Your research isn’t meeting my purposes as it is.”

“I don’t even know what your purposes are.” Carlos shouted.

“Look here’s what I want you to do, find the dangers, explain the dangers, neutralise the dangers, and then leave. You got that?”

“That’s not the job of a scientist.” 

“Well it’s the job I’m giving you.” Mr Markson snapped.

“I can do two of those things. I’m not changing any part of Night Vale, not for you, not for anyone, especially if you’re not going to tell me why.” Carlos explained calmly.

“You’ll do what I say, and you’ll do it in the time I give you.” Mr Markson growled. “You’re getting too attached Carlos, that’s not good for you.”

“I’m not, I swear, I just-“

“Get everything done in six months, what happens after that isn’t your problem. Now let me get some sleep. It takes a lot of energy to deal with your nonsense.” The line went dead. Carlos sighed and placed the phone down. Now what? He was even more tied up now than ever. He spun around to leave, only to find another face staring right back at him. “How long have you been standing there?”

“About a minute.” Replied Jess. “I forgot my jacket.”

“Right…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…I was just…”

“Arguing with our boss?” Jess smiled.

“Ha, yeah that.” Carlos nodded. “Crazy ugly ass.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I know.” Carlos grumbled.

“I always thought he looked a little like you.” Jess commented.

“What?”

“Well, not exactly like you. Like you if you were older and had been left in the sun for…a thousand years.” 

“I just wish I knew why we’re here.” Carlos sighed. “I mean why we’re really here, and I wish I had more time here to…understand everything.”

“I warned you against this. You’re getting too attached.”

“Why do people keep saying that? I’m not attached. I’m worried. This is a nice town. Why are we trying to change it? Why are we being rushed out of it?”

“I think we should talk about this in the morning. You’ll feel better after you sleep.”

“Fine, goodnight, Jess.” He checked his mobile a second time. Cecil would probably be starting to worry about him by now. The time display read 2am. Carlos raised his eyebrow. “Hey, Jess, how long did you say you were there?”

“Just a minute or two.” Jess called from halfway down the stairs. 

“Huh.” Probably another Night Vale. Maybe he could buy time another way.


	22. Chapter 21: Time Destruction

For the next month and a half Carlos went, for lack of a better a term, absolutely mad. Mad in a productive sense, but mad nevertheless. It all started the day after his conversation with Mr Markson, when Marsha walked in on him dismantling the lab’s wall clock, and continued from there. Every clock he got his hands on ended up in thousands of tiny pieces. He barely looked up when the town was attacked by street cleaners, which unsurprisingly were nothing like the street cleaners of the rest of the country. Every now and then he’d call Mr Markson, ask the time, and then hang up again. The team was determined not to ask. Eventually though the curiosity got the better of them. It was a curse that came with being scientists.

“Carlos, what are you doing?” Marsha finally asked as she watched Carlos carefully take apart yet another alarm clock.

“I’m trying to stop time.” He replied. “Not permanently.” He quickly added. “Just…until I can come up with another plan. Do you have a clock in your apartment? I’m going to need to commandeer them for a bit.”

“Carlos, that’s not how time works.” She sighed.

“Isn’t it? Look out the window.” He jumped to his feet and directed her towards the window. Pink and orange danced through the sky, intertwining and staining the clouds with pastel colours.

“It’s half an hour off again.” Marsha muttered.

“Right, right, but watch this.” He quickly took out his mobile and went into the time setting. With the touch of the screen the clock went back by around three hours. “Now look again.”

Marsha rolled her eyes and peered again out the window. He’d lost his mind, of that much she was sure. The sunset was gone. It had been replaced the blinding blue of the hours before. Times arrowed stood still for no man, but apparently it did sometimes march backwards.

“Marsha, I have made the biggest scientific discovery yet, and it had nothing to do with Mr Markson’s stupid ‘purposes’. I can control time.” Carlos grinned.

“And…does this work with all clocks?” Marsha gulped.

“No, about one in four. I’m getting rid of them all, just to be sure. This way the year won’t end until I’m ready and I can figure everything out.” Yep, definitely mad.

“Ignoring the fact that there’s no way you can persuade everyone in Night Vale to just hand over their clocks, why do you have to destroy them? Can’t you just keep winding them back, like you’re doing with your mobile?”

“Do you really trust me to remember to turn back hundreds of clocks? One lapse of attention and that’s a day lost.”

“So…shouldn’t you destroy your mobile as well?” Asked Marsha.

“Well…”

“Don’t want to forget to adjust it.” 

Carlos glanced down at his mobile. Using his own logic Marsha was right. If this was the best plan he had, then he had to go all out, no risks. He couldn’t believe this was the best plan he had, the only plan he had. He’d considered just staying, just sitting in his apartment on leaving day and letting the deadline sail serenely past him. Mr Markson had threatened to leave him behind from the get-go and he had no doubt that he’d follow through. But of course, Mr Markson had thought of that. It was no good having a team that could just run off on a whim. Sure, there was funding to think about, but everything rested on him. He survived on the little allowance he was given. Even the contract for his apartment was in Mr Markson’s name. Perhaps he could get a job in a shop, sleep in a cupboard. Someone would accept him enough to hire him eventually, right?

Who was he kidding? He was clinging to Night Vale for one reason and one reason alone. He didn’t belong in Night Vale, he never would, and eventually, very soon, he would have to leave. But if he could stop the march of time, or at least slow it, he could deal with that. He would hold off the finale of his story, end it on his terms. Just a little extra time, by any means necessary. He stamped the mobile into pieces. 

“Did it work?” Asked Carlos. Marsha starred at him, the seconds dragging by as she tried to process the sight before her, and, unable to come up with a better reaction, burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe it was that easy to get you to break your phone. I wonder what else I could get you to do.” She finally said as she wiped her eyes.

“But did it work?” Carlos prompted. Marsha sighed and checked her phone. The clock ticked forward. The seconds ticking tirelessly into minutes. 

“No, you need to break more clocks, if that even will have the affect you think it will. You know that just because turning a clock back appears to change the time doesn’t mean breaking them will stop time.”

“I know but-“

“That’s extremely unscientific.”

“Alright but maybe if-“

“Carlos.” Marsha interrupted softly. Carlos flinched as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “You realise that this is getting out of hand, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Carlos sighed. “I’m beginning to think Jess had a point. I should have just locked myself in here and focused on my work for a year.”

“Well it’s a little late for that now. Hey, maybe you should do the opposite. Spend some time with Cecil and you’ll probably remember how weird you found him when you first met.” Marsha laughed.

“Yeah…yeah you’re right.”

“No, wait-“

“What am I doing with all these clocks? I need to go.”

“But I didn’t mean-“

“Bye, Marsha.” Carlos spirited towards the door, almost stumbling over the cold gears of clock parts and broken screen glass. Marsha sighed, why did she even bother?


	23. Chapter 22: Interference

Finding Cecil turned out to be a little harder than Carlos had expected. He didn’t particularly want to go to the radio station: 1.) because it was unprofessional to ask about social events while Cecil was at work, 2.) because that place gave Carlos a weird feeling. He’d probably like it if he spent a long time there, but since he’d never get the chance to be there as long as he needed avoiding it seemed like the best plan. But he’d never been given Cecil’s address, merely a vague idea of the area, and he couldn’t call him because his mobile was destroyed beyond repair. Such calls felt wrong on the lab phone. He never knew who was listening. He wandered the streets aimlessly, hoping fate would pick him up and guide him. It didn’t. Eventually, he gave up and went to The Black Cauldron. He deserved a little treat.

“Hey there.” The barista greeted. “Did you bring your skull?”

“What?” He gasped. Oh right, he almost forgot for a second. “No, sorry.”

“That’s fine, I’ll grab you one from the side. What can I get you? The Hellfire and brimstone latte is on offer today.”

“Um…I’ll just stick to cappuccino, thanks.” Was a Hellfire and brimstone latte another of Night Vale’s spicy treats or was lava just another dangerous material they liked to play with? He got his perfectly normal drink and turned to head to a table, locking eyes with Cecil at the door. “…Hi.”

“Hi.” Cecil smiled. “Fancy seeing you here. Almost like fate.”

“Yeah.” Thank the Lord for fate, slow and clumsy as it was. They rushed to a table before Cecil had got his drink. This was Carlos’ best and possibly only chance. The next five months of his life was riding on this moment. He summoned all his courage and decided to start talking without a plan. Cecil would probably prefer honesty over calculation. “So, I was thinking-“

“Cecil, Carlos.” For goodness sake, who was that? He spun around to see Josie waving and heading towards them. He sighed. He couldn’t be mad at Josie; it was physically impossible. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Is it fate by any chance?” Carlos muttered as Josie pulled up a chair.

“No, dear, it’s lunchtime.” She dismissed. “Cecil, sweetie, we’re one short for the bowling team tomorrow.”

“Again? Damn it.” Cecil grumbled.

“If only we had someone young and energetic nearby.” She smirked.

“Yes, if only.” The table went silence. Josie cleared her throat. She was clearly used to having to prompt these things. “Oh, Carlos. Yes, Carlos, you’re young and energetic.”

“Um…” Carlos started. “Thank y-“

“You’d be perfect for the bowling team.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Come on, Carlos. What’s the worst that could happen?” Asked Josie. In Night Vale that was quite a loaded question. He couldn’t further entangle himself even further into the affairs of the town, could he? Say no, say no, say-

“Sure. It might be fun.” He shrugged. Curse him. 

“Awesome.” Cecil exclaimed. “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone. They’re going to love you. Hey, were you going to say something a minute ago?”

“…No. It’s nothing.” Carlos winced.

“Okay, I’m going to get a drink. The Hellfire and brimstone latte is on offer.” Cecil practically leaped out of his chair and jogged towards the counter. At least he was going to find out what a Hellfire and brimstone latte was. 

Bowling. Carlos hadn’t bowled since he was a little kid. He’d always missed it. As far as sports went it was pretty relaxing: slow pace, few people, no running, no pushing. He’d probably enjoy it. Plus, he’d still get to spend time with Cecil, even if it wasn’t in the manner he’d originally attended. Sure, bowling. Why not?


	24. Chapter 23: Voicemail

Carlos wasn’t exactly good at bowling. He wasn’t terrible but compared to the rest of the team he was quite an amateur. All the same, getting out once every two weeks and spending time with Cecil, Josie, and his friends was a great form of stress relief. There were few problems that couldn’t be solved by chucking a ball down at some innocent pins at full force. Plus, after endearing himself to the Erikas he managed to get his phone fixed. Fixed and ‘protected’, so they said. He had to find someway of thanking Josie for her less than subtle suggestion. If only she’d thought of it sooner. It would have averted an ongoing crisis.

He wasn’t completely sure that he was at fault, but the timelines matched. Ever since he started messing with the clocks time had started to get weird. It had been weird before, sunsets had never been the way they should, but now it was slow. Way slower than it should have been. He kept to himself at first. Maybe he was just imagining things. He’d contacted Cecil to get him to ask his listeners to come forward with any information about the situation, but he seemed distracted. He thought the whole thing was ‘neat’. It wasn’t neat, it was potentially devastating, especially since time was moving faster back home meaning his benefactors could be coming for him before the year was up.

Fumbling through his notes offered no relief, they only brought up more questions. He thought the problem might have stemmed from his inference with the clocks, but when he thought back, he realised that the clocks had never been working at all. At least, they shouldn’t have been. The gears never moved. He’d been too caught up in the moment to notice while it was happening, but they were always completely frozen. He was pretty sure some of them were made of foam. Foam and…several other things. No batteries either. Why hadn’t he been paying attention? He was a scientist for goodness sake. Back to the phone, back to Cecil, but he wasn’t answering.

That wasn’t a problem, right? After all, why would he pick up? He was working. It would be weird to take a personal phone call on the air. There was no need to panic. There was a scientific explanation to all of this. He started to leave a voicemail. Cecil would surely get back to him.

“Cecil, sorry to bother you. I need you to get the word out that clocks in Night Vale are not real. I have not found a single real clock. I have disassembled several watches and clocks this week and all of them are hollow inside. No gears, no crystal, no battery or power source. Some of them actually contain a gelatinous grey lump that seems to be growing hair…and teeth. I need to know if all clocks are this way, Cecil. This is ver–“

Something moved in the corner of his eye. A tall black shadow lurked just outside the door. Carlos found himself suddenly struggling to remember whether he got the Erikas to fix the lock.

“There’s something at my door, Cecil. I need to go, okay? I’ll call you back in…well, I don’t know.” 

He hung up. The figure continued to stand outside, unmoving. Should he go to the door? Should he call out? No, if the figure had good intentions, they would do something. Heck, most of the people and creatures in Night Vale with bad intentions made themselves known, often loudly, and Carlos quite liked that system. He edged towards the window and peered through the blinds. The figure clung to a leather suitcase. Carlos wasn’t sure but he could swear it was buzzing. His figure was hidden by a long tan jacket and his face was completely obscured. He wasn’t sure by what. He wasn’t wearing a mask and from the position he was stood Carlos should have had a clear view. Yet it was covered by an impossible shadow. He reached for his phone. Cecil probably wasn’t going to pick up, but just hearing what was going on out loud was quite calming.

“There’s a man in a jacket holding a leather suitcase outside my door, Cecil. He’s not knocking, he’s just standing in front of my door. I can’t make out his face. I’m peering through a crack in the living room blinds –“ 

The figure turned his head was sharply Carlos was surprised his neck didn’t snap. It stared right at him. Oh God, those eyes. Those eyes were all he could focus on, virtually all he could see. 

“Oh no, he saw me.” He slowly put his phone down without looking away. He was trapped in a hellish staring constant. For over ten seconds it stood there, as if inspecting him, before turning towards the door and trying the handle. Carlos jumped back as it rattled, shaking the whole room. A wave of relief washed over him when the lock got in the way. The Erikas pulled through. The figure walked away. 

“Okay…” Carlos muttered to himself. He reached for his phone and turned around. There stood the figure, whispering incoherently. Carlos didn’t even try to maintain dignity. This was a screaming matter and scream he did. His grip slipped and the phone tumbled to the ground. It survived without cracks. Now he just had to make sure he survived too. Backing up, he tripped over his own feet and fell onto his back. One day he would go a whole month without falling, providing he lived to see another month.

“You are Carlos Cienca.” He growled. His voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, echoing across the walls, bouncing into every corner of the apartment. It wasn’t a question, not remotely, but Carlos shakily nodded anyway. “I bring a message.”

“From…who?” Carlos gulped. The figure shoved a brown envelope into his hand. 

“No idea. I’m not allowed to open other people’s mail.” He shrugged.

“You’re…the mailman?” Carlos asked.

“Mailman, handyman, whatever you need man. For today, for tomorrow, whenever I’m required.”

“Oh.” No wonder Josie didn’t want him to meet the mailman. 

“You will have a nice day.” The man in the tanned leather jacket told him. Carlos blinked and suddenly he was alone. Maybe he was always alone. Yeah, that was right, he’d always been alone. Or had he? He felt like he’d just been talking to someone. And why was he the phone? Why was his phone screen cracked? Where had he got this letter from. He stumbled to his phone.

“Sorry about that, Cecil.” His voice trembled. He’d probably given the poor man a fright, though hopefully he’d listen to all the voicemails at once and everything would be explained. Maybe he could call back and repeat back to him what he said, since he was no longer entirely sure. “I forget what I was doing. I think somebody came over…but I don’t remember who or what for. Anyway, I need to meet you. Are you free tomorrow afternoon? You have a contact number for the mayor and someone with the police, right? It’s important that I find them. And again, can you get the word out on your radio show about the clocks?”

He put his phone down and looked down at the letter. His hands shook as he removed his neatly folded paper inside. It appeared as if someone had printed out an email and mailed it to him. He scanned the text, his eyes repeatedly moving back to the subject line.

‘Just the man we were looking for.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I believe the man in the tan leather jacket was explained into the Welcome to Night Vale novel but...I haven't read it. Apologies for any contraindications.


	25. Chapter 24: Gifts

The letter offered little useful information, but Carlos clung onto it all the same. The text had somehow got garbled, with letters out of place and words upside down, but he could work out some of it. He got ‘fascinating town’ ‘wish to work with’ ‘impossible to find’ ‘please contact us’ ‘Best wishes, J.Fink and J.Cranor’. They didn’t offer any contact information. He placed the letter in a draw for safe keeping. He would come back for it.

In the meantime, he was focused on a way of thanking Josie. He’d met the team a couple of times already, both at the bowling alley (a strange and interesting place in itself) and at the local pub, which was uncreatively though conveniently named ‘The Pub’.

“There’s only one pub, Carlos.” Cecil had told him. “Why would we mess around with complicated names?”

It had certainly helped him feel like part of the town. Whether this was a good thing or not was yet to be decided, but it was nice not to be an interloper. So, he found the perfect gift to pay back not only Josie, but everyone he had the pleasure of meeting through her. He found the one thing every bowling team needed, jackets. The team had owned branded jackets once, long before Carlos had arrived, but they’d all been lost in the ‘Great Fabric Destruction’ of 2003. Nobody had bothered to replace them. Carlos looked far and wide for a customisable clothing, paid the steep price of three tablespoons of blood and nine strands of hair, and ordered a jacket with the team logo on for each person, himself included. It would make a good souvenir.

He would have preferred to give them to each person individually and make it more personal, but nobody seemed to be answering their door. In fact, nobody seemed to be doing much of anything. The streets were empty, doors were locked, and stores were closed. One person peered out of their window and yelled:

“Go home, stupid boy, it’s not safe.”

Before slamming it shut again. Back at the University of What It Is this would have been cause for alarm. However, this was pretty normal behaviour for Night Vale, so he thought nothing of it. Instead, he decided to leave the jackets outside each house. They’d be just fine. Soon he was left with just one, Cecil’s. Cecil opened the door before Carlos even had a chance to knock. 

“Carlos, what are you doing outside?” He asked frantically.

“Hey Cecil, I actually have something for you. So, remember when you were telling me out the jackets that got destroyed in 2003? Well, I thought-“

“Carlos.” Cecil shouted. His hands firmly grabbed Carlos’ shoulders and their eyes locked. Cecil’s stare was terror filled and intense. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh…yes…it is.” Carlos laughed nervously. “Um, Happy Valentine’s Day?”

“No, Carlos, you don’t understand. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Ahuh…” Oh great, Cecil had gone off the deep end. Though he did so on a regular basis, so Carlos wasn’t really surprised. “Listen, you’re sweet, but Valentine’s Day is kind of-“

Before Carlos could even finish his thought let alone his sentence, something crashed down to the street. Carlos instinctively leaped into Cecil’s doorway and spun around. Half buried in the tarmac road was an almost building sized, pink plastic heart.

“What the…” Carlos trailed off.

“You should really come inside.” Cecil said solemnly.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Come on in.” Cecil lead him inside and deadbolted the door shut. Cecil’s home was small and warm, with furniture that was mix and matched from nearly every era since Victorian times. 

“Does that happen every year?” Asked Carlos. 

“Oh yeah, we’re trying to get Valentine’s Day officially cancelled. The amount of deaths just isn’t worth it.” Wow, if Night Vale was worried about the amount of deaths then it must be serious. No wonder nobody wanted to go outside.

“That must cause havoc with flights.” 

“Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” It was a wonder they’d never heard of it elsewhere. Carlos had seen planes fly over Night Vale; somebody must have noticed at least once. 

“I have to go to work soon, but please stay inside until Valentine’s is offer. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But it’s dangerous for you too.”

“Don’t worry.” Replied Cecil as he straightened his tie. “I’ve survived hundreds of Valentine’s Days.”

“That’s just an exaggeration, right.” Carlos chuckled. How old was Cecil anyway?

“Maybe.” Cecil shrugged. “Why did you come over again? We kind of got cut off.”

“Oh right.” In the confusion he’d almost forgotten. He handed Cecil the neatly plastic wrapped maroon jacket, the logo on the front in the left corner, Cecil’s name in bold white letters on the back.

“Oh wow.” Cecil rapidly unwrapped it and inspected the soft material. A soft smile spread across his face as he put it on to wear to work. “I love it. Have you these for everyone?”

“Of course.” Carlos smiled.

“We’re going to look so good. Oh hey, I guess this is our first Valentine’s gift.” Cecil winked.

“Cecil.” Carlos smirked.

“I’m joking.” Cecil reassured. “But it is beautiful. I’m going to work now; I have to show off this jacket. Help yourself to food, blankets, TV, anything you need.”

“So, I’m just supposed to spend the night at yours until the disaster blows over?”

“Absolutely. See you later.” Cecil ducked out the door. Carlos sank into the warm sofa so a howling wind yelled outside the window. He sat and smiled. There were worse places to ride out a natural disaster.


	26. Chapter 25: The Future

For the most part, Carlos had accepted that time just didn’t make sense in Night Vale. It was an annoying thing for a scientist to acknowledge, especially considering he would likely never know whether or not he caused the problem, but as long as everyone stayed in their own year, he could just about deal with it.

And then The Traveller showed up.

The Traveller showed up in the town centre at around 5am, causing a raucous and generally irritating everyone. Carlos was asleep at the time, but he was quickly awoken by the noise from the street. The first words he heard that day as a woman outside shouting:

“We get it, you’re from the future.”

The Traveller wasn’t being at all coy about the matter. In fact, he was actively rubbing it in people’s faces, which was infuriating the Sherriff’s Secret Police, who not only regarded the man as not only an interloper, but a dangerous and untrustworthy interloper at that. It wasn’t exactly clear why he was so hated. After all, nobody in Night Vale was surprised by the existence of time travel. It was kind of mundane really. Maybe they just didn’t like smug show-offs. Carlos considered stepping in to shield the man. He had become somewhat of a protected individual thanks to Mr Markson’s not so little bribe. He decided against it. He didn’t want to find himself embroiled in some sort of messed up butterfly effect. Besides, he didn’t like smug show-offs either.

What Carlos did like, however, was prime opportunities. They rarely dropped in his lap this way and he doubted he get another. Since the letter arrived Carlos’ understanding of his own future had been even more in flux than it had been already. Who were J.Fink and J.Cranor? If they wanted to work with him while simultaneously being fascinated by the town, did that mean he could stay under their instruction? He couldn’t know for sure. He couldn’t know anything for sure. Unless of course he found someone from the future, Night Vale’s future. Someone like The Traveller.

Carlos hovered around the town all day, hiding himself in the little crowds that often formed in various places. He even checked out one of Mayor Pamela Winchell’s famous emergency press conferences, though he got very little useful information out of it. Finally, he caught up with the man while he was cornering an annoyed reporter to explain how the run for mayor was going to get ‘very, very interesting over the next few years’.

“Excuse me.” Carlos tapped on The Traveller’s shoulder, giving the reporter a much needed chance to escape. At first, his face was laced with thunder as he turned around, but he softened as soon as he laid eyes on Carlos. His smile was wide, but Carlos wouldn’t read whether it was in kindness or in malicious. 

“Hey, buddy, how you doing?” He greeted.

“I’m…” Terrified. “Fine. Listen, I need to ask you question…about the future.”

“I don’t know.” The Traveller smirked. “Telling someone about the future can be very dangerous. I mean, what if I tell you something and you change it. Consciously. Subconsciously. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. This was stupid, I-“

“What do you need?”

“Oh…um…well in the future, the future you’re from, am I here?”

“Here?” The Traveller raised his eyebrow, but his knowing smile didn’t fade. It didn’t even flicker.

“Here, alive, in Night Vale.” Carlos clarified. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure. What’s your name?”

“It’s Carlos.”

“No, no, no. You’re full name.”

“Carlos Ciencia.”

“No.” The Traveller laughed as he shook his head. “There’s no Carlos Ciencia in the future. Now excuse me, I have to go make some more noise.” The Traveller began to walk away, leaving Carlos more confused and scared than he was to begin with, but he turned back for just a moment. “You might want to stock up on supplies and sandbags. Night Vale’s got a storm coming.”

Carlos wouldn’t see The Traveller again, at least, not for a very long time, and he wouldn’t realise it when he did. The Traveller disappeared later that day, both physically and from the town’s memories, but his words stuck with Carlos, though he no longer knew where they came from.

“There’s no Carlos Ciencia in the future.”


	27. Chapter 26: The Double

Sandstorms in Night Vale were viewed the way normal storms were around the rest of the world. They were mildly dangerous, but they were more of an inconvenience than anything. Even the rest of Carlos’ team seemed mostly unaffected. They went into work as normal, having apparently experienced worse throughout previous postings. Carlos, on the other hand, had never seen a sandstorm before in his life so he opted to stay in the place he felt most secure, his apartment. After all, if he could survive an angry spirit in there, he could survive a simple sandstorm.

The winds howled outside the window, whistling through every little gap and crack. He didn’t have anything to block out any damage, but he had managed to stop the sand from blowing under the door by rolling up his duvet and placing it in front of the little gap underneath. He spent the day at his table, watching the different shades of orange and yellow swirl by, maintaining a safe distance from the window in case they shattered. He kept the radio on for more information. Of course, Cecil wasn’t being much help. In fact, Carlos was actively ignoring his advice to close his eyes. The view was too beautiful that. 

He was almost in a trance when he spotted it. A dark shape moving passed his window, clear as day against the burnt orange background. Carlos shrugged it off at first. He was probably just imagining things. He imagined things all the time, especially since he moved to Night Vale. Then it passed by again. A dark black shadow about the size of an adult man. Carlos gulped before quickly rationalising. People had been walking around all day, despite the radio’s warnings against it, and his apartment was on a main street. It could be anyone. He hoped they were alright. The sand was blowing fast enough to blind a person.

“Highway officials are warning all Night Vale residents to stay off the roads. The sandstorm is making travel nearly impossible. We are told that several cars have stalled near the southbound off-ramp at Exit 6 on Route 800. Traffic officers reported…” The radio was hard to hear over the noise outside. Carlos strained his ears to find out what was being said about the roads. He managed to find a relatively secure place to store his car near the lab, but he was sure it was going to scratched to high heavens regardless. Luckily, he had no-where important to be the for the next few weeks. He leaned to turn it up as far as it would go and even then, it was difficult to understand the words clearly. “each fighting pair seemed to be of the same build, gender, age, and were wearing the exact same thing.”

What? He must have missed something. It didn’t really matter. Something weird was always going on in Night Vale. The shadow passed by again. It was possible that there was someone out there in trouble that he should check on, but it was always out of sight before Carlos could make the decision. 

“Old Woman Josie has not called, but intern Dana said that Old Woman Josie updated her Facebook page with an Instagram of some rune stones. Dana has been furiously translating these symbols, and her best guess is that they say ‘They come in twos. You come in twos. You and you. Kill your double!’” Carlos wasn’t sure which struck him more; the statement about the doubles or the fact that Josie had a Facebook account that nobody had told him about. He rarely used social media, but it was nice to be aware of these things. He wondered if he had a double. What would he be like? Would they get along? Who would ultimately kill who? He shook his ahead. It was likely that everyone had a doppelganger somewhere, but the likelihood of a pair meeting each other was astronomically thin. It was a prank or possibly some sort of optical illusion brought on by the storm. He could believe either.

The day went on and the reports became more alarming. Carlos tried to ignore all of it with cool, calm scientific rationality, but scientific rationality meant little to Night Vale. He feared for the town, now in a state of emergency, griped in mist of something they claimed they were not afraid of. He feared for Dana, a young woman he’d never met and might not never have a chance to, endangered by her position, fighting against herself. He feared for Cecil, who he couldn’t reach on the phone. He didn’t yet fear for himself, not really, but the shadow was getting closer to the window each time it passed and the question of either he had his own double grew ever stronger in his mind.

“And with that, dear listeners, let’s go to the– …oh, my. Look at that. Listeners, there is a black – almost indigo – vortex that has formed along my studio wall. Listeners, words fail me. It is so beautiful!” He wanted to yell at Cecil not go. There was too much going on and a vortex could not be safe. Nothing was safe while the storm was raging on. “I can’t leave you, as our show is not yet over, but…there must be something beyond this something, Night Vale. I must see what it is! I must go! I will try not to be long, listeners. I will try not to be long…”

The radio went dead. It was just static, crackling loudly, blending in with the swirling wind outside. It grew louder and louder, almost deafeningly so, and it was everywhere. Outside the door, inside the apartment, within his own mind. It was blinding him from behind his own eyes, suffocating him.

And then it stopped…

Where there was noise there was silence. Where there was a storm there was now peace. The wind had stopped, and the sand had settled. There was just quiet. Quiet and a new voice on the radio.

 

“Hello? Hello, Desert Bluffs? What is this studio? Hey there, Desert Bluffs! I don’t know if you can hear me. Kevin here. I don’t’ know where I am…” The voice was so kind, too kind, too happy.

“Cecil?” He asked, though he knew that the voice certainly wasn’t Cecil. There was a bang on the window. His head spun to see. There was still nothing. So much nothing. 

“Listeners, if you can hear me, I am in a strange place. I do not know if I am in Desert Bluffs, or if anyone can hear me. The sandstorm rages outside. The vortex is still there, only it’s black – almost a deep blue. There’s a low hum. I do not know if this is the portal, or the storm, or my own body. There is a photo here on the desk. It is a man. He is wearing a tie. He is not tall or short, not thin or fat. He has eyes like mine and a nose like mine, and hair like mine, but I do not think he is me…” 

‘He is not you,’ Carlos thought, ‘and you are not him.’ But he was someone. One day, he would be someone important. Whoever this man was, he was going to be a big part of his life someday. Carlos could feel it. 

A more pressing matter lurked besides him. Carlos could see it in the corner of his eye. The shadow was inside the house, standing next to him, calm but radiating sadness. Carlos turned his head, his feet and body motionless, and the shadow was no longer a shadow. It was a man. It was him. The double didn’t move, his eyes were locked on the radio.

“That’s him, Carlos. That’s my radio host.” The double said solemnly. While his appearance was identical to Carlos, his voice was not. His voice was deeper, rougher, somehow older, and all too familiar.

“Mr Markson?” asked Carlos. The double turned. Their eyes met for just a moment. It was like looking into a mirror.

“ You may not know me, nor I you, but we have this mic, and this voice, and your warm ears blossoming open to hear comforting secrets in the vibrations of a voice that pulse so deep into your body, your heart relaxes for a time. And we have this, sitting right here on this odd and bloodless desk. So now, dear listeners, whoever you are, I give you the weather.” The man on the radio started the weather. The winds picked up again, lighter this time, soft and safe. Mr Markson was gone. Carlos waited for the song to end for the relief of Cecil’s voice before turning off the radio and trying with all his might to forget.


	28. Chapter 27: Coincidence

Carlos had been very lucky that his house had survived undamaged, bar multiple scratches all over the door and fingerprints all over though window. Robin, on the other hand, hadn’t been so fortunate. The high wind had smashed a large tree straight into his front window, shattering the glass and littering the razor-sharp pieces all over the carpet. He could just about live with the death trap, but Night Vale couldn’t leave it at that. The tree had start talking. Two days of 24 hour babbling and Robin near lost his mind. He opted to sleep in the lab until the clean-up effort was over. Unfortunately for him, there was a lot to fix around town and Robin was very low down on the priority list. Carlos, sympathetic to his predicament, offered up his sofa. After all, nobody liked sleeping in the lab.

“Thanks again for this man.” Said Robin as he set up his blankets and pillows. He hadn’t been able to get much out of his house having virtually fled in under to get some peace and quiet and he refused to go back until the tree was gone. All he had was the blankets that Carlos had left at the lab for his own emergencies, a few spare pillows from Carlos’ cupboard, some new toiletries from the Ralph’s, and rubber duck that he’d grabbed in a panic.

“No problem. Weird things happened in that storm. I get it.” Carlos shrugged.

“You’re still on that?” Robin sighed. Carlos had told the story of Mr Markson’s miraculous appearance once and only. No-one believed him. Nobody seemed to believe him about many things for the last few weeks. At least there was one good thing about inevitably having to leave Night Vale, he’d probably go back to The University of What It Is where he was respected.

“Yes, I’m still on that. It happened, Robin, I swear.” Carlos insisted.

“You imagined it. Loads of people imagined seeing their double that day.” 

“Did you?”

“Well no, but other people. Night Vale residents.” He explained. “But it was all just a delusion. These things happen in natural disasters. People go just a little bit crazy. Then again, this town is already a little bit crazy, so things get kind of extra.”

“Wait, if I saw it, does that mean I’m kind of extra?” Asked Carlos.

“Buddy, you joined and made jackets for a bowling team of a town you’re not a permanent resident of just to spend more time with your crush. Do you think you’re extra?” Asked Robin as he sat on top of the blankets.

“Try telling Cecil and Dana that it was a delusion, that’s all I’m saying.” 

“Here’s what I don’t get. Everyone else saw their exact double, but you saw Mr Markson.”

“Yes, well he looked just like me, but it was definitely his voice.”

“Huh, I agree with Jess that he looks kind of like you, but just like you? No.”

“You know now that I think about Cecil-“

“Urgh.”

“Cecil didn’t see his exact double either. At least…I don’t think he did. It was another voice. Some guy called Kevin.”

“…Kevin?” Robin raised his eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Did he say where he was from?” A newfound urgency shot through Robin’s voice, like he was on the verge of some major discovery. 

“I…think so? I’m don’t really recall.”

“Wait here.”

“Where are y-“Robin shot of the sofa like a speeding bullet and ran out of the apartment. Should he follow him? Probably not. Robin clearly had a plan and he wasn’t going to interfere with it. At least his sofa was covered in comfortable blankets and pillows. He could easily lock the door and have a relaxing nap. He’d earned it. He still decided against it. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout when he visited the lab again. 

Robin returned about ten minutes later drenched in sweat and panting for breath with a silver picture frame on his hand. He threw himself down next to Carlos, who had made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“This was on Marsha’s desk. She’s told me about it before. A while ago Mr Markson took a team just like ours to a similar town. He even tagged along himself. Last time he ever went out for field research.”

“Why doesn’t he anymore?” Asked Carlos as he inspected the picture. There was four people in the picture. Marsha and Jess stood smiling in white lab coats. They looked younger by at least five years, but it could have been longer. In between them there was a man in a black suit and tie that looked just like him, also smiling. He presumed that was Mr Markson. He’d aged a lot in five years. An extreme amount.

“Nobody knows for sure, but we think it’s got something to do with this guy.” Robin pointed at a man crouching in front Mr Markson. A man that looked exactly like Cecil.

“Is that…”

“Kevin Freeman, the radio host. The way Marsha tells it he and Mr Markson were really close.”

“So, what happened?”

“Apparently there was some big blowout fight just before the team left. Lots of shouting. Lots of screaming. Jess and Marsha say he was never really the same after that. At least, that’s how they tell it.” Robin recounted.

“Huh…”

“Kinda of a coincidence isn’t it? You and Cecil, Mr Markson and Kevin…”

“Yeah…coincidence.” Carlos mumbled.

“Maybe radio hosts have a type.” Robin shrugged. “I should probably get this back to Marsha’s desk before she notices it’s gone. I’ll order some food when I get back. My treat.”

“Thank you…” Robin rose to his feet and headed for the door, less rushed this time. “Hey, Robin.” Carlos called after him. 

“Yeah?” Robin turned.

“What were they doing there? In the other town.”

“I don’t know, man. I wasn’t there. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.” And with that he left, slamming the door and leaving Carlos in the shaking building.


	29. Chapter 28: Stress

The more time that passed the faster it seemed to go, and the weight of the world was rapidly piling up on Carlos’ shoulders. Not only was the possibility of Josie’s dire warnings coming to fruition growing ever closer, but he still hadn’t found J.Fink and J.Cranor and he grew more suspicious of Mr Markson every day. He complemented just asking Marsha and Jess everything they knew about Kevin. What happened? Why had Mr Markson grown so cold since? But then they’d know he’d seen the picture, one that he was sure Robin had borrowed without permission and heard snippets of a story he wasn’t supposed to know yet. Robin had explained it had taken him years just learn that much. He wasn’t trusted yet. They’d be far away from Night Vale before he was.

The world kept on moving. It would go on long after this chapter of his life was over, after his entire story was over. As long as he was stuck spinning, he had to move with it. It was either that or get thrown overboard. He kept his knowledge between him and Robin and tried to focus on some actual science.

“It makes a nice change,” Marsha had said the last time he’d entered the lab. “seeing you do some actual work.”

“I’ve been working.” Carlos insisted.

“Bowling is not work. Getting coffee is not work. Spending valentines with your crush is not-“

“It’s called building a rapport. You know how much more information you can get when people trust you?” He wondered how much easier life would be if they trusted him.

“There’s rapport and there’s falling in love with the locals, my friend.” Robin commented.

“Do you want to sleep here again?” Carlos threatened. Nearly a month had passed since the sandstorm and he was yet to get any help with the tree. They were both quietly beginning to wonder if Robin was going to be a permanent housemate, not that either of them particularly minded. It was seeming more and more like they were the only sane people left.

“I’ll be good.”

His mind was full of smoke. He couldn’t see anything through it. His newfound bowling hobby faded, his interest in his research seemed far from view. He was missing more and more report deadlines, though that was partly through choice. Until he knew for sure what it was being used for, he was keeping the details as vague as possible. Considering his already distracted nature it had gone mostly unnoticed.

There was one accidental victim of the whole affair, Cecil. Cecil had gone somewhat neglected since the storm. Talking to each other for the first few days after had been difficult. The pair of them were too shaken up to really process any topic of conversation. Carlos kept his experience to himself, but Cecil warded off the silence by telling his story over and over, leading Carlos to have more unasked questions every time. Since then, they’d been far to distracted to see each other. It was a month later before they eventually ran into each other in the street.

“Carlos, where have you been? I haven’t seen you at bowling.” Cecil called over as they passed on their way to work.

“Yeah. Sorry, I-“

“Was it something I said? Is it the love letters I sent you? I knew it was too much, but Josie said something old fashion would get your attention and there’s something kind of nice about pen and paper. It’s the thrill of it all. Doing something illegal just to talk to you.”

“The…what now?” Asked Carlos.

“You…urr…you haven’t got those, huh?” Cecil blushed.

“No…”

“Darn mailman. I’d give him a piece of my mind if I knew who he was.”

“I’m sorry, Ce. I’ve just been really stressed lately. Things have been weird at work, I got this really weird letter a few months back, I might die any day now.”

“You might what?” Cecil exclaimed.

“Urr…figure of speech.” He hoped Josie’s warning had also been a figure of speech, but he highly doubted it. He wasn’t too worried about that now. He was more worried about Mr Markson’s intentions for Night Vale. Something was being hidden from him. He knew it.

“Right…well what’s wrong at work. Can I help with it? Do you want me to kill someone?”

“No, no. I just feel like I’m missing something important, you know?”

“Well, maybe you’re just asking the wrong questions.”

“That’s just the thing. I haven’t really been asking any questions.”

“But you’re a scientist. That’s you’re whole thing.” Cecil reminded him. 

“But I think it might be dangerous.”

“Carlos, when you first moved to Night Vale all you did was things people told you were dangerous. That’s one of the reasons I like you. Why stop now?” Cecil reassured.

“Right…you’re right. I’m a scientist. I live for danger.”

“Precisely. Go chase that danger. I mean…also be careful but chase that danger.”

“Yeah.” He exclaimed, and for a moment it seemed so easy.

“Now I’ve got to go warn people about an armed militia around the bowling alley.”

“Town under lane five kicking off?” Asked Carlos.

“Not yet, but soon Carlos, soon. See you on Tuesday. The team needs you.” Cecil patted him on the shoulder and headed to work. Carlos grinned as he went back to the lab, but the closer he got the more a sick feeling rose in his stomach. Something was wrong. There was a reason he hadn’t been given all the information about where his research was going or Mr Markson’s ‘company’. There was a reason Mr Markson had been so quick to remind him that work came before Cecil. There was no harm in asking, at least he didn’t think so. Yet he knew that once that can of worms was opened there was no closing it. He stayed silent for the rest of the day.


	30. Chapter 29: The Forest

Trees, they are us. They stand tall like giants and strong like armies against mighty storms. One or two offer comfort and company, but hundreds close together make it easy to get lost. Trees. They. Are. Us.

This wasn’t the news being announced throughout Night Vale, it was more of an understood thing. What was news, however, was the sudden and unexplained appearance of a dense pine tree forest on the east side of town. It was thick and dark and dangerous, not a place to be explored without caution. Which was perfect for Carlos. He had been looking all over the place for the sudden and unexplained. When sudden and unexplained things were happening, he could leave the lab for research, something he’d been trying to do as much as possible.

Carlos hadn’t felt comfortable in the lab for a long time, at least not while the others were there. Robin was as honest as he could be and he didn’t believe Jess and Marsha’s secrecy was malicious, but the weight of knowing that they were hiding something from him was back breaking. He still hadn’t built up the courage to insist they explain. Confrontation wasn’t his strong point. People weren’t his strong point. Silence and science, that was his strong point. So, to avoid the pressure of the stifling work atmosphere crushing him completely he found something new to keep him far, far away. The forest was perfect for him, even if Cecil was convinced otherwise.

“I’ve never trusted trees.” Cecil had told him as the crossed paths on their ways to work. They’d been crossing paths before work more often recently, but that was just a coincidence. Carlos’ insisted to his team that he wasn’t timing his walks. No, Sir. That wasn’t something that rational, totally in control of his emotions Carlos’ would do.

It wasn’t like anyone could prove it.

“Why? What did the trees ever do to you?” Carlos laughed.

“Oh nothing, but I remember this bedtime story when I was young about a boy who became a tree. It was supposed to be relaxing I think but it was kind of terrifying. Maybe it would have been better if I was ever awake to hear the ending, but I don’t think I ever was. At least, I don’t remember being.” 

“Well…I’m sure I’ll be fine as long they don’t fall on me.”

“But what if they do, Carlos. What then?” Cecil asked frantically.

“Well then I’ll just have to live in the forest. You can visit all the time.” Carlos smiled. “Don’t worry, Cee. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The forest was cool and damp despite the lack of rain fall since its appearance. Carlos set to work collecting dew samples and soil. The air was clean and fresh and every breathe melted his stress away. It was the safest he’d felt since the night on the hill with Cecil.

“You. We haven’t seen you before.” An un-gendered voice whispered. It was soft and factual. It didn’t care that Carlos was a stranger. 

“Hello?” Carlos called out into the forest. He couldn’t see another person there with him. Not even a shadow.

“Come closer. Let us meet you.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re here.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. All around you. All of us.” 

“The…trees?” Asked Carlos.

“Yes. Come, sit.” The voice was only a whisper, but it was so warm, like a caring parent. Carlos couldn’t be afraid in the forest. He sat down at the foot of one of the trees and leaned against the trunk. It felt as if he was being held was close in a protective hug. He’d never felt so loved before, even though he was alone. “You’re so tense.”

“Yes.” Carlos mumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s…not important.”

“It’s important to you. We can feel it. Talk to us. Trees will always listen.”

Carlos sighed. He supposed that the forest was a good place to get everything off his chest. The forest couldn’t get up and spill his secrets. The trees could be trusted. That he could feel that for himself. 

“I’m a scientist. I came to Night Vale because of a one of a kind offer. Everything fully funded. All the research I could do in a year in a town like this. The most scientific town in America, maybe the world. It was perfect, it was everything I could have ever wanted. It still is everything I ever wanted but…”

“But?” The voice asked softly.

“But I was so caught up in how good the offer was I never thought to ask the right question, the one’s I did ask I didn’t insist on getting answers to. Why would a stranger want to fund my research? Why Night Vale? Why a year? Something is going to happen after this year is up. Something like it has happened before. Something is being kept a secret. My goal in life is to find answers. All I seem to find is more questions.” 

“You’re afraid.” 

“Yes.”

“Stay here. We’ll protect you. If you stay close for long enough the forest will always accept you as one their own in the end.” 

Carlos closed his eyes. He was so tired that he just wanted to stay. The trees wouldn’t lie. The trees would let him talk and actually listen. The trees would hold him forever, long after he was supposed to be dragged away from Night Vale. He could stay. He could sleep. Nobody could force him to do otherwise.

But sleeping was not living. Sleeping would not give him the answers he needed. He couldn’t help anyone from the forest floor. His eyes snapped opened. The sky above was black and jewelled with stars. What he’d thought was just a few seconds had been hours. He stumbled to his feet and gathered up his samples before he could lose more time.

“Where are you going? Don’t you want to stay with us?” Asked the voice.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.”

“Please stay. You’re such a good man. We can make you happy.”

“I need to go. Goodbye, whoever you are.” He started to head back towards the clear desert, lit clearly by the moon above. Something grabbed his wrist and tightened its wrist. Carlos’ blood ran cold. A vine clung to his arm, bruising and scratching his skin.

“It’ll be safer if you stay. Out there, with the radio host, you’re never going to be safe again.”

“H-how did you-“

“We feel, scientist, we see. Everything you dream when you’re close to us. You know your influence isn’t going to end when the year does. One way or another you and this town are always going to be a part of each other, ‘till death you do part.”

Carlos pulled to finally break free, spraining his wrist in the process. He paid no attention to the pain as he sprinted towards the forest entrance, which seemed to move and warp further away. But the forest knew that he no longer wanted it and in return it no longer wanted him. In the end, it gave up and let him go. He stumbled into the desert and fell to his knees, panting for breath. He was free, but he was no longer safe. He’d traded the temporary peace of the forest for the ache of permanent knowledge.

‘Your influence isn’t going to end when the year does.’

Perhaps the vague but menacing government agents had been right to fear him.


	31. Chapter 30: The Promise

Carlos had never been a scout for several reasons. It was partially because constantly moving around meant getting involved with anything often seemed like a waste of time. By the time he’d signed up and started working towards his first badge he’d be gone again, so he decided from a young age not to bother. It might have also had something to do with the fact that Carlos wasn’t a particularly social or outdoors kind of a child. In fact, young Carlos hadn’t been much a child at all. He was more of a miniature adult who hadn’t quite grown into his lab coat yet. As such, he didn’t really know much about scouts other than what others had told him, which wasn’t very much. Despite this, even he was sure that Night Vale’s ranks, similarly to most things within the town, were very much different from the rest of America.

“I don’t see why it matters.” Marsha had said when he first brought this fact up right at the start of his stay. “They do everything wrong around here.”

“Not wrong. Just different.” Carlos corrected.

“Allowing your children to be part of anything with ‘blood’ or ‘fear’ in its core values seems pretty weird to me.” Said Jess.

“Well, to be fair to the parents I’m not entirely sure they have a choice.”

“Blood, fear, and forced participation.” Said Marsha. “Sure, Carlos, nothing wrong with that at all.”

Carlos lack of knowledge on the matter never really been much of an issue. Scouts had been the last thing on his mind until one fateful Monday, when the local scout group suddenly became the talk of the town.

“It’s finally happening.” Cecil jumped up and down excitedly. “It’s finally…” his face dropped, and the excitement faded. “Oh God, it’s finally happening.”

“What? What’s happening?” Carlos desperately prompted.

“Eternal scouts.” Cecil said firmly, as if the words were supposed to make perfect sense to anyone who heard them.

“Oh…um…th-that’s nice.” Carlos smiled.

“Is it?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“Nobody has reached this rank before and-“

“Ranks.” Carlos realised. “We-we’re talking about ranks. Okay, I’m with you.” 

“Nobody knows what happens ever this.”

“Probably…a badge or….”

“Sacrificial murder. Dimensional rifts. Black magic.” Cecil thought aloud. 

“Yeah…or that.” Carlos muttered. There was no way this was the same institution that his young peers had always discussed in the school yard. Although he’d never stuck around long enough to find out their views on sacrificial murder, so it was possible.

A man approached the pair, which was quite a relief because Carlos had no idea where to direct the conversation next. Cecil was the kind of person Carlos could happily sit in silence with for hours on end, the two of them doing their own thing, quiet yet together, but it had to be deliberate silence. Standing the street mutely starring at each other wasn’t what he had in mind. The man was a tall, lanky, red head. His face was covered in freckles and his scout master uniform was covered in badges. His mouth smiled, his eyes did not.

“Earl.” Cecil greeted warmly, pulling the man into a hug. The man didn’t hug back. He just patted Cecil’s shoulder and pulled free.

“Hey, Cecil.” The man, who Carlos’ presumed must have been Earl, mumbled.

“Congratulations to Frank and Bart, first ever eternal scouts. You must be so proud.”

“Yep, so very, very proud.” Earl replied through gritted teeth.

“Are you excited for the ceremony?”

“Sure…excited. Excited is totally the word to describe what I’m feeling.” Earl nodded awkwardly. “I’ll…be over to the radio station later to give a statement and look around the place a bit. I haven’t been in there since you were an intern.” He laughed.

“Radio station…work…I’m late.” Cecil suddenly realised and broke into a dash. “Bye Carlos, bye Earl.”  
“Yeah…bye, Cecil.” Earl waved weakly. The precedence of happiness dropped, and his eyes sunk to the ground.

“You and Cecil close?” Asked Carlos in a futile attempt to make things seem normal again.

“Childhood sweethearts of sorts.” Earl laughed.

“Oh, that’s nic-“ 

“He really cares about you. You know that don’t you?” Earl asked coldly.

“Of course.” Carlos gulped.

“Do you really care about him?”

“Well…yes. I suppose I-“ A hand grabbed his arm, which was still bruised from the incident in the forest. Carlos winced, but Earl didn’t let go. His eyes shot up, starring daggers straight into Carlos’ mind.

“Listen to me. You look after him, you understand? No matter what happens to look after him and you love him, and you don’t take a single second you have together for granted.”

“I-“

“Because if I come back from wherever I end up to find out that you hurt him, I swear on everything I am that I will destroy you.” He finally let go and stormed away, not giving Carlos a chance to respond. Carlos watched him leave, unable to say anything, not that there was anyone around to listen to him if he could. Deep down, he knew that one or another Earl would never get the chance to follow through on his promise, regardless of his or anyone else’s actions. Nevertheless, he would never take Cecil for granted. He was going to treasure every little moment. After all, moments were a resource that was rapidly running out. There was only one month left.


	32. Chapter 31: The Letter

If Carlos had a choice, he would have spent all the time he had left in Night Vale with Cecil and Josie. But, like with most things, Carlos didn’t have a choice. There were things to wrap up, research to finish. He never did get any proper information on the house that didn’t exist. He still didn’t understand Cecil’s mysterious readings or the problems with time either, though nobody seemed bothered by it, so he supposed it didn’t really matter. Nothing really mattered. There was so much he would never know. When he returned to The University of What It Is, providing Josie’s predictions didn’t come true, and they asked him what he had done all year, what would he tell them? What would he say he’d learned?

He’d learn how to love, but it hadn’t helped him.

Two weeks left. Two agonisingly short weeks. Cecil, unaware of the time restriction that had been placed on their time together, was far too busy to even attend the bowling league. An awful lot had been happening in the town, more than usual that was. Earl had disappeared shortly after Carlos had met him, which he couldn’t help but feel that it was a relief followed by a heavy guilt for ever feeling such a thing. The mayor had also disappeared for a while that month, but she’d reappeared shortly after to announce her plans to step down after one more year in office. Hiram McDaniels would get his election campaign after all. Carlos wouldn’t get to see that.

Things disappearing and reappearing had been somewhat of a theme for the month. Dana, who like so many other poor radio station interns, had disappeared two months prior, presumed lost forever to the walled off confines of the dog park, had sent Cecil a message. Just a single text explaining the mayor’s latest speech. She was alive. Alive and nearby, close enough to hear what was going on by that park. Since then, Cecil had been doing everything in his power to get a message back to her. He had to force their ‘times to match again’, so he said. Though he hadn’t mentioned her much in those two months, Carlos knew that deep down Cecil still felt responsible for her. She was still his intern, after all, no matter how far she wandered.

Carlos wasn’t going to get in the way of Cecil’s mission. How could he? He would happily choose the safety of a missing child over his love life any day. It was too late for anything real passed friendship to blossom between him and Cecil anyway, regardless of what both of them wanted. Carlos had just been to afraid of how it would end and squandered his chance. Time might have been broken, even occasionally backwards, but never enough to change anything. So, he would stand back and hope for Dana’s safe return. He wanted that to be the note he left on, not on the regret of what would never happen.

He was cleaning his apartment, soon to be someone else’s apartment, when the figure appeared, causing Carlos to scream in shock. The man in the tanned leather jacket appeared before him. No smoke, no flash, he just appeared out of thin air. Clearly, he’d decided that the door had taken to long last time. Last time? Yes, there was a last time. The buried memories reappeared as suddenly as the man himself did. He stopped screaming immediately.

“You, you’re the mailman.” Carlos remembered.

“Mailman, handyman, whatever you need man.” Said the man in the tanned leather jacket.

“You…already said that.”

“And it’s still true.” The man reached into his pocket and handed over a brown envelope. So that’s where he got the last letter from.

“Thank you. Isn’t there an easier way you could deliver mail? Like…a less terrifying way?” Carlos asked.

“Not until the post office is back in service. Sorry.”

“Wait…what actually happened to the post office, anyway?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad. I won’t remember it anyway.” Carlos laughed.

“You won’t remember it, but it will haunt you.” The man in the tanned leather jacket replied sternly.

“Oh…”

“Have a nice day, Mr Cienca.” The man disappeared once more. Still no smoke, still no flash. The memory of the man faded once more, but Carlos knew who had sent the letter, even if he wasn’t sure who had given it to him. He fumbled to open the letter. Same situation. The letter was half coherent, half a jumbled mess, signed by J.Fink and J.Cranor. Then he noticed something. He wasn’t sure at first, so he ran to his bedroom, where he’d been keeping the first letter in a draw, and placed the two sheets of paper next to each other. It wasn’t two separate letters, it was the same letter, only the text that was jumbled in the first one was now clear in the second, and vice versa. He grabbed a blank sheet and a pen and started to transcribe the full text.

‘Dear Mr C. Cienca,

A friend of ours has recently learned from a relative about your research to the desert community of Night Vale. We know very little about the town, but from the scraps of information we could find it sounds like a truly fascinating town. A place that would be full of inspiration for writers such as ourselves. 

Sadly, we are unable to visit Night Vale. It’s near impossible to find and somehow even harder to travel to. That’s where you come in. We wish to work with you in a professional manner by exchanging your knowledge of the town, its people, and its events for whatever you need to lead a comfortable life and continue your research. From what we’ve heard, we think Night Vale would be the perfect subject for a podcast.

If you’re interested, please contact us as soon as impossible.

Yours faithfully,

J.Fink and J.Cranor.’

And then, at the bottom of the second letter, was the holy grail. Something that wasn’t on the first. A contact number. If it worked he could contact J.Fink and J.Cranor. He could continue to work in Night Vale.

He could stay.


	33. Chapter 32: The Truth

The most satisfying part of being stuck with an irritating group is knowing that you’ll soon never have to see said group ever again. It was impossible for Carlos not to smile as that thought ran through his mind while the others packed up their supplies. Just one more day. One more day and he’d have the whole place to himself. One more day before the start of a lifetime of science. One more day before a possible lifetime with Cecil. He’d never have to fear being dragged away from him again. 

“Hey, Carlos, are these test tubes yours or mine?” Asked Jess.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Carlos smiled and shrugged without looking up. He sat comfortably at his desk, not caring one bit about the hectic pack up going on around him. “Take them anyway.”

“You’re not packing up.” Marsha scowled.

“You’re right. I’m not.” Said Carlos as he continued to write.

“Why not? We need to be out of here at an exact time if we want to meet our debriefing deadline.”  
“Yeah about that. I’m not going.” 

The room fell silent. Carlos expected as much. He didn’t care, they couldn’t stop him. Their opinions no longer mattered.

“Dude, what do you mean you’re not going?” Asked Robin, his soon to be ex-housemate. He couldn’t wait to sleep in peace.

“I mean I’m not going.” Carlos smiled smugly as he finally looked up.

“Why not?” Asked Jess.

“I’ve got a better offer. I can stay here for the foreseeable future.” He explained.

“But how are you going to afford it?”

“I have my sources.”

“Carlos, you can’t stay here.” Marsha said firmly.

“Why not?” 

“Well…you just…” She looked desperately at the rest of the frozen group for support. Jess’ eyes were wide. She knew, Carlos could tell she knew, but she still wouldn’t tell. Then it dawned on him. He could ask whatever he wanted. They’d be gone soon enough. What possible consequences could there be? 

“Why not, Marsha?” He asked with narrow eyes, the smile falling from his face.

“Well…”

“Just tell him, Marsha.” Jess muttered.

“Tell me what?” Carlos snapped. Marsha sighed and finally started to explain.

“This research team is stage one of a multi-stage revival of the town.”

“Revival? Night Vale doesn’t need-“

“Mr Markson’s company, Strex Corp, likes to take small, unknown towns and…improve them. Make them more productive. It starts with a small group of scientists to scope out the place and then expands to new business, new legal forces, everything a town could need to flourish.”

“Okay, that’s fine. That sounds wonderful. But why does that mean I can’t stay here? I could help out. I wouldn’t be working for Mr Markson anymore, but I’d be able to point out some of the places to avoid and how to stay safe. You’d be better off with me here.” He pointed out.

“It’s…not safe.” Marsha sighed weakly.

“What do you mean it’s not safe?” Carlos laughed nervously.

“Town folks are defensive. They spent the first few months attacking the four of us. Imagine how they’d react when the whole of Strex Corp arrives, and then imagine how they’d react when they find out you’re involved.” Jess explained.

“I can deal with a few angry Night Vale residents. Heck with Cecil on side I can persuade them to the benefits.”

“Mr Markson used to think the same thing.” Jess said sadly. ““But people don’t tend to simmer down.”

“And sometimes we have to make them simmer down.” Marsha said coldly.

“What do you mean?” Carlos gulped.

“Listen Carlos, in five, ten years’ time this town is going to be one of the most productive in the world. With Night Vale and our last project Desert Bluffs side by side under one cooperation they could be immensely powerful. But resources don’t just come out of no-where. Sometimes you need to break down the old to build the new. Sometimes you need to break down the people to build the new.” She explained.

“You’re going to destroy this place.” Carlos said as the realisation dawned on him.

“Not destroy. Improve.”

“Carlos, Mr Markson once tried to stick out the entire revival process and it nearly destroyed him. We don’t want it to destroy you too.” Jess smiled sadly.

“I…” Carlos whispered. How could he leave the town to their fate? But, what could he even do? He was just one person against an entire cooperation.

“You have to leave, Carlos, or you’ll be throwing your entire life away.”

“I can’t.” He protested.

“Carlos, if you stay here, you’ll die. You understand that, don’t you?” Asked Marsha.

“But-“

“A man like you, a man that always explores and interferes.” She hissed. “It would only be a matter of time. But come home with us, imagine how much more you could do. You’re a smart man, Carlos, you deserve more than this.”

“Okay.” Carlos nodded weakly. There was nothing he could do. He was powerless. He always had been.

“It’ll be okay, man. Desert Bluffs is fine, so Night Vale will be fine.” Said Robin.

“Are they fine?” Asked Carlos, directing a fiery glare straight at Marsha. “Are they really?”

“Just pack up your things, Carlos.” Marsha growled. “We leave tomorrow.”


	34. Chapter 33: Packing Up

Carlos was the last out of the lab that night after his short-lived bid for freedom put his clean up efforts behind everyone else. Luckily, or unfortunately depending on how you wish to look at it, he didn’t have much to put away anyway since he’d absentmindedly given so much of his equipment to the others. In a better timeline he would have got rid of everything but the bare essentials and bought more Night Vale appropriate supplies when his new source of income came through. Most of it would be radiation based. 

After the final box was home, he headed back to the building for one last look around. When he’d first arrived, the place had already been buzzing with his team’s distressed activities. He’d never seen it empty before. It felt so big, so cold. The space was suffocating. He left in a hurry and locked the door behind him. 

“Carlos.” An all too familiar voice called from down the street. Cecil was hiding towards him, waving cheerfully with that beautiful goofy smile. Nausea filled Carlos’ body. He hadn’t even thought about how he’d say goodbye.

“Hey Ce.” Carlos smiled weakly. He couldn’t show his sadness in front of Cecil. He couldn’t shatter that poor man’s happiness.

“Do you know what day it is tomorrow?” Cecil asked excitedly.

“No, what’s-“

“It’s the year anniversary of you moving to Night Vale. You know I’m impressed at that you survived this long. I mean, I never doubted you would. A smart man like you can survive anything.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well you must be doing something right. Most people barely last a month before either dying or freaking out and locking themselves away. I guess you were just destining to live here.” Cecil smiled.

“Yeah.” Carlos sighed.

“Hey, swing by the office tomorrow. I might have a little something for you.” He winked. 

“I’ll try.” Carlos nodded.

“Okay. Well I’ll let you head home. It’s getting dark and I’m sure you don’t want to be out here when-“ Carlos wasn’t sure what came over him. It was like his logic stepped out of his body and left him alone with a storm of emotions. One moment he was listening to Cecil speak, the next his arms were wrapped tightly around Cecil’s chest, as hanging onto him would some how prevent him from leaving and the day from ending. Cecil was speechless for the first time in their year of knowing each other. He awkwardly patted Carlos on the back, clearly unsure of what to do, but Carlos was unable to force himself to let go. “Well this is nice. What brought this on? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine.” Carlos replied as he finally made himself push away. He wiped away the tears rapidly welling up in his eyes and tried to force a smile. “I’m just so happy I met you.”

“Oh…I’m…happy I met you to.”  
“But you’re right, it is getting dark.” Carlos nodded. “We should probably get inside.”

“Yeah…” Cecil gulped. “Well, see you later, Carlos.” He started to walk away, clearly shaken.

“See you late…” His voice trailed off. A memory surfaced. He’d said ‘see you later’ to a receptionist when he’d first arrived in Night Vale and he’d turned out to be wrong. That time it had been an honest mistake, if he said it this time it would be a flat out lie. He wouldn’t lie, not to Cecil. “Goodbye, Cecil.” He whispered to the now empty street.

He didn’t sleep much that night. How could he? Knowing what he was about to leave behind, not fully knowing what was about to come. What would become of Cecil and Josie and everyone else he’d learnt to live in harmony with when Strex Corp arrived? Would they be happy, the way the double on the radio seemed to be happy? Did they even want that kind of happiness? He would never know for sure. He spent the night checking and rechecking that he’d packed everything. 

Carlos looked at his few belongings, neat and folded, and at the small collection of knickknacks that he’d accumulated, packed away in perfect disorder. Pictures and bowling trophies, his own bowling league trophy. Those random objects would be the only reminders he’d have of a town that’s he’d never visit again. 

The car would arrive the next day in the middle of the afternoon. Apparently, Mr Markson didn’t want him driving back in his own car, which he’d been forced to abandon. Somebody must have told him about his little escape attempt. Perhaps he didn’t want him pulling anything. There was no other way out, since Josie’s prophecy seemed unlikely to come true within less than 24 hours. Part of him was disappointed. At least if she was right, he would have died in the town he loved. Soon he’d be back on the road, Night Vale fading from his life as quickly as it faded from view. He would hand in his last remaining scarps of research, the few parts he was willing to share, and go back to his job at The University of What It Is, where everything was exactly what it was. Maybe he would meet a man, a nice man, a normal man, who would give him a normal life. He would do all of that without ever thinking about the fate of the strange town in the desert. He wouldn’t think about Josie, with her angels and her prophecies. He wouldn’t think of all the other people, who he learned to share a cautious co-existence with. Most of all he wouldn’t think of Cecil, a man so caring and yet so confusing that Carlos had learned to love him the way he loved science. He was unsolvable not in a way that was frustrating, but in a way that meant there would always be more to learn. Carlos wouldn’t think of him at all. Instead he would rest and think about his plan for the morning. He planned one more bit of research, a scientific goodbye to a town he’d only just said hello to. All he would think about was lane five and the town that sat below it.


	35. Chapter 34: A Quiet Bowling Alley Community

Under the orange glow of the early morning sun the streets looked as if they’d been watched a new. The warm light hugged Carlos’ shoulders as he strode towards the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. One more experiment. One more little discovery. Then he was gone.

The streets were completely empty, but there were already cars in the parking a lot of the bowling alley. A memory stirred. They’d be whispers and quiet plans for Jeremy Godfried’s 50th birthday party for weeks now. They’d decided to throw it relatively early since the majority of Night Vale’s deadly events happened around mid-afternoon. Carlos was honestly surprised anyone ever made it to 50 in a town like Night Vale. Then again Josie had made it to at least 80, but she did have some mild divine intervention on her side. Carlos threw open the double doors. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad that his final impression on the town would be him interrupting such a joyous occasion. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Teddy Williams had already done that for him.

The electronic score cards flashed a bold white ‘They are here’ across every screen. Carlos couldn’t help but think that the score cards could benefit from being a little more specific. There were plenty of people who were already very obviously there. Jeremy Godfried’s birthday party, for example. Teddy Williams was running around in circles, yelling and screaming for his visibly confused militia to attack. 

“What’s going on?” Carlos asked one of militia members, who was mutely observing the whole affair.

“Well-“

“The end times are here.” Teddy Williams shouted. “A thousand years of darkness. Bloodshed in the streets. Prepare yourselves, citizens, prepare to defend your town.”

“Yeah, that.” The militia member nodded.

“Right…have you actually looked at what’s under there? Because I’ve got a hunch-“

“Your hunches will mean nothing against the void.” Teddy screeched. 

“Okay.” Carlos sighed. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Someone has to.”

“You’re opening pandora’s box young man.” Teddy yelled after him as he headed towards lane five’s pin retrieval. 

“You’re deranged.” Carlos muttered. 

“Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Say that to my face, big shot.” His voice was so loud it was a miracle he didn’t stain his throat. Carlos waved him off. A small crowd had started to gather behind him: the militia, a few stray bowlers, Jeremy Godfried’s party guests. Not Jeremy Godfried though. He was sat on one of the benches, swirling his drink and sulking at the commandeering of his little half century celebration.   
Carlos crouched down to peer down into the pin retrieval. If he squeezed, he was sure he could just about fit down there. Lights twinkled below him, filling the cold black with little specks of warmth.

“It’s miles down. Too far to jump.” Uttered one of the party members.

“No…I’m not sure it is.” Carlos grumbled before taking a leap of faint. He was barely falling for a couple of seconds before his feet touched the ground. Just as he expected. The town wasn’t far down at all. Once he’d worked himself into a crouching position the tallest buildings barely made it passed his ankles. It was a tiny town, more specifically a tiny Night Vale. A little desert community living in eternal night. The little people came out of their homes and offices to stare in awe. He smirked. Hundreds of them could fit on just one of his fingers. Was this really what everyone was so afraid of?

“Come down, come look.” Carlos gestured to the group. A smile spread across his. “Behold, this is not an enormous city miles below the earth. It is a very small city about ten feet below the earth, populated by tiny people, who have had to spend a year slowly climbing the ten feet to our world. We have nothing to fear.”

He could have stayed in that moment forever. His last act in Night Vale, a victory. Two towns, once fearful of each other’s existence, finally facing each other. But of course, no moment could last forever, that’s why people worked so hard to savour them, and Carlos’ moment of strength was cut short by something sharp hit his leg, causing him to stumble. He looked down at his bleeding ankle. The miniature version of Teddy Williams had ordered an attack, and, unlike the full-sized version, his militia had obeyed. Carlos moved against the wall in a desperate attempt to protect himself. The projectiles fired against his legs and arms, opening little cuts all over his body. He tried to reason himself out of his rapidly rising feeling of panic. There projectiles were only tiny. Then again, a lot of deadly things were tiny. Like bullets or microbes. 

He didn’t get a chance to finish his mental list of deadly things before something hit him squarely in the chest. He wasn’t sure what knocked him down, the force or the shock, but Carlos fell to the ground hard, hitting his head on the wall. He looked up, drifting in and out of consciousness every few seconds. All he could see above him from black. There was noise all around him from both versions of Night Vale, but he couldn’t hear what was being said over the squealing in his ears and the pounding in his head. He felt nauseous as his vision blurred, all the black above appearing like smudged ink in the sky and breathing in the tiny space became incredibly hard. He closed his eyes. He felt so light, almost like he was flying.

For so many months he’d wondered about his own death. He’d pictured it in so many ways, but none his imagined scenarios brought him to this point. Still, this was Night Vale, nothing could be normal, not even death. Josie had warned him so early into his stay that he often thought he’d never see the end of the year. He supposed at the very least he could say that he had. He only had one regret; he hadn’t been more honest with Cecil. He hadn’t even been brave enough to say a proper goodbye. He hoped he’d be forgiven; he never meant to leave this way.

'Live a good life, Cecil.' He thought to himself. 'Find someone brave enough to love you to your face.'


	36. Chapter 35: Awakening

For a few blissful seconds after regaining consciousness, Carlos thought that he was floating, wrapped inside of warm, fluffy cloud. Then he realised that this was impossible, or at the very least extremely unlikely, because clouds were made out of water vapor which he’d fall straight through, and a near-death experience was no excuse for unscientific daydreams. As his senses began to return, he felt that the whatever he was lying on was far too hard to be a cloud anyway. It was much more likely he was in a very firm bed, wrapped in blankets. He opened his eyes, his vision still blurry and his head still aching. He struggled to focus. Turned out he was wrong again. He wasn’t in a bed, he was still in the bowling alley, lying on one of the benches under a pile of coats.

The chaos of the mid-morning had passed to a steady quiet. The shouting had turned to silence. Carlos lifted his head and looked around. The aggressively flashing electronic score cards had been turned off and the bowlers had been cleared out. The only person left was a single old man who was sitting on the bench opposite, watching him. It took a few seconds of blank staring to work out that the man was Teddy Williams. He was almost unrecognisable now that he was still and quiet.

“So,” Teddy started. “do you still think I’m deranged?” Carlos shook his head, still unable to speak. “Are you okay?” he sighed.

“I’m not sure.” Carlos managed to mumble.

“That’ll teach you be more careful in future. You’ve been out for hours, nearly all day. I was getting real worried about you.” Teddy explained.

“Was…was I flying?” Carlos asked.

“Wow, you hit your noggin pretty hard down there didn’t ya?” He smirked. “No, you weren’t flying. That Apache Tracker guy carried you out.”

“Apache Tracker?” Oh right, that guy Cecil was always ranting about, one of many guys Cecil liked to rant about. Carlos kind of understand in the case of the Apache Tracker, who was and had always been a man in an offensive feather headdress and not a real native American despite a handful of magical appearance changes. All the same, he’d saved his life. Carlos had to be somewhat thankful for that.

“Yeah, he may have been a jerk, but he had his uses.”

“Had?” Carlos gulped.

“Oh…” Teddy said quietly. “I’m sorry, kid, he died getting you out. Whatever those tiny people were firing hit him in the throat. There wasn’t much we could do.”

A cold shiver washed through Carlos’ body. This was his fault. His naivety had resulted in a man’s death. And then the realisation hit. Josie had been right, as had the vague but menacing government agency. Death had indeed come to Night Vale; it just hadn’t been his death. 

“I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it, kid. He wasn’t a good man.” Teddy said softly. 

“That’s not the point.” Carlos muttered.

“I know.” Teddy sighed. “Oh, before I forget. A woman came by while you were asleep. She told me to give you this note.”

Teddy walked towards him and brought a crumpled note out of his trouser pocket. Carlos swung his legs out to a sitting position, brushed out as many of the paper creases as he could, and began to read.

“Dear Mr Carlos Ciencia,

I don’t know whether to be disappointed with you or respect you. I opt to do neither and instead be mildly annoyed by you. But I understand. If you want to stay in that backwards town and die that’s fine. It won’t change our plans. I hope you have a good life. Judging by your current behaviour it’s going to be very short.

Yours Sincerely,

Diego Markson.”

Carlos laughed. The paper had clearly been ripped out of a cheap notepad and scribbled the text down in a hurry, but Mr Markson, or Diego since Carlos no longer had the need to respect him, had still taken the time to format it like a real letter. Though Carlos’ would never like him, he had to admire the man’s commitment.

“Do you need to call the woman back?” Asked Teddy. “You can use the office phone.”   
“No.” Smiled Carlos as he shoved the letter into his pocket. He wasn’t going to contact any of those people. They weren’t a part of his life anymore. All his life he’d been moved by the whims of other people; first his parents, then his employers. No more. He was going to stay in Night Vale, whatever the consequences. He would put down roots in the sand like a mighty oak and the forest would, in time, accept him as one of their own. And, when the time came, the forest would survive whatever storm was coming, like it had survived hundreds of storms before. “Though if you don’t mind, I would like to use your phone. I need to call-“

“It’s okay, kid.” Teddy laughed. “I know exactly who you need to call.”


	37. Chapter 36: When One Year Ends

Carlos’ best white lab coat had been torn to shreds by the miniature militia’s projectiles, so he was allowed to take a red flannel shirt from the lost and found which fit him perfectly. He waited in the Arby’s on the trunk of his car, watching the sunset. Teddy hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d missed most of the day. He didn’t really mind. Sunsets had become his favourite part of the day. They filled the sky with colours. Fiery reds, dandelion yellows, marshmallow pinks, along with colours that shouldn’t even been there like lavender purple. Above the Arby’s mysterious lights danced and they were always at their most visible against the colourful backdrop. Nowhere in the world had sunsets like Night Vale.

“What is it? Wha– what danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?” Cecil panted. The poor man sounded like he’d run the whole way from the radio station, a good five-minute sprint. Perhaps he should have said a little more than ‘Meet me in Arby’s car park as soon as you can’.

“Nothing. After everything that happened…I just wanted to see you.” Carlos said softly. The pair had never really met without pretence. There was always science to be done, league meetings to be discussed, paths accidentally crossed. This was the lie they both maintained.

“Oh?” Cecil’s voice trembled as he joined him on the trunk of the car. 

“I used to think the sun was setting at the wrong time.” He sighed. “but then I realised that time doesn’t work in Night Vale, and that none of the clocks are real. Sometimes things seem so strange, or malevolent, and then you find that, underneath, it was something else altogether. Something pure, and innocent.”

“I know what you mean.” Cecil replied, and Carlos knew in his heart that he did. So many outsiders, himself once included, thought Night Vale’s strange traits made the town broken or dangerous. Maybe it was dangerous, in fact it definitely was, but it wasn’t malicious and certainly wasn’t broken. It was beautiful in its own way.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, watching the colours blend together like loose dye, creating combinations that Carlos could barely comprehend.

“I made you a trophy.” Cecil said at last. “But in the hurry, I left it on my desk.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos laughed. “That’s okay. You can give it to me some other time. Maybe over that coffee you were talking about?”

“Yeah…yeah I’d like that.” Cecil nodded.

Since moving to Night Vale Carlos had seen 364 sunsets, but that night’s was the first to paint the world a new. The few certainties he’d had were gone. Even his team were gone. That might have been for the best though. He needed a team that would want to explore and protect the town if they were to survive the storm that Strex Corp was bringing. He’d ask around, maybe pull a few strings with his new podcast loving interloper friends and build a team that was fit for Night Vale, rather than a team that wanted to make Night Vale for them. 

But all that was in the future. All that mattered was that moment. He thought of the lights above him, working in a way which he somehow understood perfectly and yet not at all. He thought of Cecil, leaning on his shoulder, who worked much the same way. There were a thousand things he could have said in that moment, an entire year’s worth of confessions, but those too were for the future. He leaned back, letting the warmth of the evening air wash over him, imagining the life that was about to start, and he fell in love instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've reached the end of 'An Entire Year of You'. Special thanks to Cecil Speaks, who's tumblr page I've been using alongside the official year one script book (Mostly Void, Partially Stars by Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor) to lift direct quotes and keep track to the year's timeline. Also thanks to the Night Vale Presents team for creating this wonderful world in the first place and bringing me so much joy over the years. But the biggest thanks goes out to every single person who's read to the end. Reading your comments has been the highlight of my day while writing this. You all mean more to me than you could ever know. 
> 
> Today's Proverb: If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, you probably fell in love with a boomerang.


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